It Snows When It's Dark Out, Too
by ToxinAngel969
Summary: A collection of varied-length one-shots that take place before & after Jack became a spirit & after the defeat of Pitch Black. Some misc. stuff, mostly revolves around his relationship with the Guardians. T for self harm, suggestive humor, & thorough descriptions of angst/loneliness :) UPDATE: Jack's Tree Pt. 2: Bunny didn't need another reason to panic. He smelled blood. Rated T.
1. Remembering '68

_Story Title: It Snows When it's Dark Out, Too._

_Summary: A collection of one-shots that take place before & after Jack became a spirit & guardian and after the defeat of Pitch Black. Revolve mostly around Jack's relationships with the big four as well as how he coped - and is still coping - with the aftereffects of being ignored for so long._

_Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort_

_Rating: T for suggestive humor, self harm, and excessive descriptions of angst, pain, depression, mutilation, loneliness and violence. J There are spoiler alerts, since most of these are either past events that justify why something happens in the movie, or future events clarifying what happened in the movie and why. And then some :D_

_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN RISE OF THE GUARDIANS, THIS FANFICTION IS NOT WRITTEN FOR PROFIT, MAINLY OUT OF BOREDOM AND FOR THE HECK OF IT. |_:

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Chapter One: ~Bunnymund, Jack, and Pitch~ Remembering '68

Chapter Song: Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls

When Jack woke up on that late Easter morning, not only was he clueless as to what day it was, but he was also clueless as to how he'd ended up on the frozen lake in the first place. He couldn't remember falling asleep there, though nowadays his memory was one of his least helpful attributes; he was constantly forgetting things and the ones that he'd been able to remember became tangled and jumbled. Still on his side, he looked at his reflection in the ice that covered the waters from which he was reborn. Judging by the long streaks on his face where gleaming frost had accumulated, the winter spirit had gathered that he'd been crying; the white glistening frost first outlined the bottom of his eye, where the tears gathered before finally spilling out, and continued to stream down his blue blushing cheeks. It was clear to him that he'd been crying for a while, after noticing how many different trails of tears there were that the frost covered; but as to whether or not he cried himself asleep or cried while asleep, he couldn't say.

A tired, exhausted moan escaped Jack's blue lips. His entire body ached, feeling drained for some odd reason, and he hadn't slept well at all. This was because in his sleep, Jack was many things. He was livid. He was lonely. He was confused. He was many things. And they all just overlapped each other, the bitter loneliness trying to overpower the dizzying confusion, the dizzying confusion trying to override the wrathful resentment he held towards himself and his existence. He could feel himself tossing and turning on the slippery ice, thoughts invading his sleeping mind infesting his dreams.

_Why am I even here if no one can see me?_

_Why can't anyone see me? Do they choose not to?_

_Was I just put here to make it snow in the winter?_

_Why did the moon only tell me my name? Couldn't he have told me more?_

_Did he choose not to because he wants to watch how much I'm lost without the answers?_

_I know I'm not alone, but where are the others? Are they avoiding me? Why? _

_What am I supposed to do? Why can't I leave? Am I supposed to figure it out on my own?_

_Is this all just some joke? Is he just doing this to make me feel this way? Why?_

These were questions that ate at him for nearly 150 years (though he couldn't remember exactly how long if he tried), and he thought that he would grow used to them by now. After he'd shaken off the rest of his drowsiness, he picked himself up from the ground, only to regret falling asleep in the first place. First of all, Jack had somehow managed to create a huge blizzard in the surrounding area - _in his sleep_ - possibly caused by the relentless questions and nightmares that led him to cry in the first place. But the fact that he could bring on a raging blizzard simply by not controlling his emotions well enough wasn't necessarily what made him want to regret ever falling asleep. Jack (albeit shakily) swiftly swooped up his staff from the ground and positioned it defensively, ready to attack the tall figure as it slowly emerged from the white background.

It was Jack's first up-close encounter with E. Aster Bunnymund; otherwise known as the Easter Bunny.

And he looked _ticked._

Jack remembered when he first met Bunny a long time ago, though he knew not of his name or his purpose. And technically, he didn't formally _meet _him. He spotted him from a distance, thinking at first that he was some sort of creature because the darkness of the night had shielded most of his features, sort of like what the snow was doing to him now. He flew over to say hello, but noticing something was flying over to him, the Bunny fled. Jack saw him fall through the ground, leaving only a bright colored flower to show where he was just standing. After that, the winter spirit didn't know what to think, the confusion and irritation later carved into the soft skin of his wrists. They'd become frosted over as well.

The 6"1 Pooka loomed over Jack in an intimidating manner, causing the winter spirit to take a cautious step back. He could barely make out the bunny's expression, mainly because his fur was speckled with snowflakes and the constant gusts of snow-infused wind kept blocking him out, but he could feel the rage emitting from the Guardian like a fire emitted heat.

"Well, if it isn't _Jack Frost_," he spoke with a thick Australian accent as well as an impatient, stern voice. "Just what do ya think you're _doin', _mate?"

Jack blinked a few times. "Y…you-you know my name?" _I've never met this guy - well, bunny - before in my _life! He thought. _How does he know me?_

"A'course I do! We all know it… Hey, ya must be the newbie that Tooth was talking 'bout! The one with the really white teeth," he paused briefly to inspect the teeth inside of the agape mouth. "Wow, they really _do _sparkle like freshly fallen snow… crikey, kid…"

"We-we all-? You mean there's _others_? I'm not the only one!?" a rift inside of Jack had begun to fill with joy, completely disregarding the other rambling that Bunny had added to that sentence. "All this time I thought I was alone!" he was so giddy that he'd barely noticed the bunny take an threatening step forward.

"I made a bet with North that you'd be a troublesome lil' bugger," The words were dripping with loathing.

"W-what?"

"Looks to me like I won,"

Without warning, Bunny withdrew one of his boomerangs and chucked it at him full force, Jack barely having time to react and dodge it. "Wha-? Hey, what gives?! What's your problem?!" he shouted, ducking in time for the boomerang to go over his head once more and back into the paw of its owner. Bunnymund, having taken offense to both of these questions, hopped towards the boy nimbly and grabbed the collar of his old-style shirt, pulling him close so that they were face to face.

"My problem's all around ya, mate," he growled aggressively. "You're the one who created this bloody _blizzard _on _my _Easter! You just ruined Easter for all the lil' anklebiters who live 'ere!" Bunny shook Jack for emphasis.

_Oh, I get it now! _Jack thought to himself as the Pooka continued to blabber, unaware that Jack was no longer listening. _He's the Easter Bunny! Why did I not get that earlier? Wait, does that mean… _His thoughts became his words, interrupting the Easter Bunny with a hopeful voice.

"Wait, so does that mean you're all real?"

Bunny seemed taken aback. "Wha-what was that?"

"You _are _the Eater Bunny, right?"

"Well, what's it look like, ya gumby?" he asked, dropping back onto the ice and inspecting one of his boomerangs. "Though I go by Bunny, if you must know. Crikey, I almost forgot how clueless you were,"

Jack wasted no time standing up and resuming his questioning. "So that means that Santa Claus is real too?"

No response.

"A-and the Tooth Fairy?"

Again, Jack was ignored, the Bunny smugly and intentionally disregarding his presence and meticulously wiping clean his boomerang.

Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Can't say I am, Frostbite. But ya must be used to being ignored by now, ain't ya?"

Jack stumbled backward. The words tore him apart.

"What? You don't like that, do ya? Well I hate to break it to ya, mate, but you ain't ever gonna be seen, by anyone! 'Cause, ya see, no one _believes _in you. No one cares."

"_Stop it!" _Jack shouted loudly, startling Bunnymund and causing the blizzard to howl and intensify tenfold. "Blimey, kid, you're really startin' to push your luck."

"Likewise, Cottontail." Bunny shot him a disbelieving look. And as scared as Jack was, he sparked the fire that eventually led to their everlasting feud, not really thinking about what was coming out of his mouth.

"Look, I didn't know that your precious egg hunt was today," his voice, previously full of enthusiasm and excitement, now contained nothing but sarcasm and anger. "But I promise you that if I knew beforehand, I wouldn't have brought on this blizzard. I would've brought on the next _ice age _instead!"

"Oh, that's it, ya damn pest! Com 'ere!" The Bunny ran towards him full speed. Not knowing what else to do, Jack jumped into the air, the wind lifting him up and eager to take him wherever he pleased. _The South Pole, take me to the South Pole! _His mind screamed, and the wind propelled him toward his destination as fast as it could.

It took less then half an hour to reach the South Pole - that alone revealed how eager he was to get away from the psychotic bunny who clearly needed to learn how to loosen up. Catching his breath, he landed on a clearing beside his favorite glacier, his hands and legs shaking and his heart racing. _There had been others? This whole time? And they were… ignoring me? No… making fun of me because other people can't see me? And people can see _them?He thought to himself as he faced the giant glacier, pausing for a second as he heard a whoosh sound behind him. He turned around just in time to have something gray ram into his chest and slam him against the sheet white glacier, his staff slipping from his hands in the process. The impact left him stunned and out of breath, and it really didn't help matters when something clasped tightly around his throat and held him up against the glacier.

"Going so soon, mate? I can't say I'll ever understand why the Man in the Moon granted someone like _you _immortality, but it sure does irk me,"

"Well… you and…me both, Whiskers…" Jack, despite his current position, smirked slyly as the sarcastic, choked words somehow escaped his lips. But his thought process went a little something like this: _I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Wait, is that the Easter Bunny? I can't breathe. How did he find me? I can't breathe. Did he just come up from the ground? I can't breathe. Is he gonna kill me just 'cuz of some blizzard I accidentally made? I made the thing in my sleep! Cut me some slack! That's no fair- I can't breathe!_

"Oh, I've got a feeling that I'll be buttin' heads with you more often, Frost. So jus' stay away from me, got it? And while you're at it, stay away from _all of us. _The last thing we need around is a troublemaker like you."

"Aw.. that's no fun…" he managed to say, though his head was pounding and his eyesight was becoming blurry.

"Yeah, well it won't be for _you, _mate,that I guarantee you,"

The bunny was going to continue, but a sharp, cold pain began to creep up his right arm. Jack's frost, which slowly formed from the palms of the small, pale hands that were trying to pry Bunnymund's paw from his neck, had crawled up the bunny's arm and begun to turn into ice; it was magic frost after all. With a brief yelp of surprise, he dropped the boy and began to break and rip the ice off his arm. Jack fell on his knees, coughing uncontrollably until he could properly breathe again. When he could, he grabbed hold of his staff and looked up to see that Bunny was plucking the last of the ice off of the gauntlets on his arm.

"What's the matter, Cottontail?" he asked with a now raspy, hoarse voice, "Don't like the cold?" he asked before shooting him with a blast of snow from his staff. Whilst the bunny was shaking it out of his fur, Jack took this opportunity to flee the South Pole. He flew up into the air and flew over the ocean, where he knew that the Bunny couldn't possibly come up from the ground unless he had a death wish. He was aimlessly hovering for what had to be at least three hours or so. He could fly over there all day, so long as the wind took all the tears that fell from his eyes and the blood that dripped from his wrist, and whisked them away somewhere only he would find them. Both were eventually dropped by the wind and lost in the ocean, just as Jack was lost until he felt it safe to land.

~After '68, at the Tooth Palace~

"Wait, is that Jack Frost?" Pitch questioned, walking around the ornate, floating chamber and shooting the winter spirit a quizzical look before disappearing once more. "Since when are you all so chummy?"

Jack was hesitant to respond to the villain at first, but gripped his staff tighter and decided it'd be best, as he searched all around him for where he could have gone.

"…We're not…"

"So you're like a neutral party?" the voice asked not too far behind him. Jack flipped around to see Pitch nonchalantly strolling and weaving through the golden structure. He sounded almost bored.

"Then, I'm going to ignore you…" He pointed to Jack before turning around and continuing his sentence.

He chuckled slightly. "But you must be used to that," Jack took a shaky step back, his anger slightly dampened by the sickening amount of pain and truth in his words; they tore him apart. He slightly lowered his staff, the comment reminding him of what he really was: invisible. But the comment only made Bunny angrier. Bunnymund remembered what happened the year of '68, when he taunted the poor boy for being unseen by anyone, which caused him to have an outburst and only feed to the blizzard.

" _Hey, are you even listening to me?" His voice was angry and confused._

"_Can't say I am, Frostbite. But ya must be used to being ignored by now, ain't ya?"_

Even at the North Pole not twenty minutes ago, he'd said this him, knowing it was his weak point, knowing that it would eventually cause him to break, or at least stop talking.

"_But they don't believe in you, do they? You see, you're invisible, mate. It's like you don't even exist."_

But after seeing how hurt the young boy was when Pitch said the words, he saw it. Jack's face was, for a second or two, distorted with sadness and anger. The words tore Jack apart.

And this time, Bunnymund wasn't the one doing it.

For whatever reason, knowing this made him feel _ticked_.

"Pitch! You shadow-sneakin' ratbag, _come 'ere!_" he hopped speedily toward the nightmare king, briefly grabbing Jack by the shoulder once he passed the spirit and ensuring that he was behind him before lunging toward Pitch. He was fueled by only two things: the hatred he had for Pitch for saying those hurtful words to Jack, and the hatred he had for himself, for ever making the kid feel like a waste of space in the first place.

Bunny swore to himself that once this was all over and behind them, he would never say things like that to Jack again. And, if he could bring himself to do so, he would try to apologize. That is, if he could bring himself to say the words, the words that would probably mend Jack together again.

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_Author's Note: You will notice, if you watch the Tooth Palace Scene very carefully, that Bunny briefly grabs Jack on the shoulder and pulls him back before charging for Pitch (even though he was probably using him for leverage or something like that, but hey, I'm just being creative; that or I've been drugged… Mneh, either way). You'll also notice how smugly Bunny looks at him after saying "But they don't believe in you, do they? You see, you're invisible, mate. It's like you don't even exist." because he knows he can get the best of him through saying stuff like this. I decided to make a little thing relating to why Bunny seemed so defensive after Pitch said those things to Jack :/ the text might not be exact though, but I don't have the movie yet, I'm forced to go over to my friend's house if I want to watch it, so… :) will edit later._

_If you would like a second shot of this certain event, say, of Bunny apologizing, then just ask. I try to take requests, I do violence, sadness, no slash or lemon. Sorry, I just cant write those :/_

_969~696_


	2. Forgetting the Repercussions, Pt 1

_Brief Author's Note: Oh, you guys. Guys! As creepy as this might sound, I love you right now! Yes, you, on the other side of the computer screen! (you: … um, okay?) Thank you to all of those who read the story, and to those who left a review, it makes me feel like the happiest person alive! I never expected so many people to… well, acknowledge this story's existence (I felt like Jack for a second there) and then I look over its traffic stats/reviews and I nearly screamed! As sad as it is, the last time I looked, 194 views to this story was the highest I've ever had! EVER! As I sent to Lovepuppy316, I thought this would be one of those stories that were looked over, but I posted it anyway because writing is… well, it's what I do. Just like making mischief as well as frost is what Jack does. And we all know that's not gonna change for a while ;) Anyway, let me bore you no more, continue with the story and don't forget to leave a review!_

_I have a little half-oneshot-thingy up on deviant art, (just type in KuraiTeiruzu696 on the search bar on deviant art . com, and go to my journals, it's called Repercussions,) about Jack feeling alone once walking through the woods, despite a handful of believers and the guardians' slowly bonding friendship. I decided to intertwine the idea with this next chapter. Please leave me feedback!_

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Chapter Two: ~Bunnymund, Jack, Pitch, and North~ Forgetting the Repercussions Pt.1

Chapter Song: Save Me from Myself, by Vertical Horizon (because his voice sounds like Jack's ;D and it matches the sad theme D:)

Repercussion (dictionary definition) = the rebound of a force after impact; result; aftermath; outcome; consequence

It didn't take Jack long to realize that the bitter, painful emptiness that he was experiencing was nothing short of loneliness. He did more than recognize the wretched feeling when it overtook him. He understood it, knew it from the inside out, as well as every other emotion that came along with it; unfortunately there was quite a number of emotions that had ambushed him that one unforgettable night. It had previously been a casual stroll in the park - quite literally, as a matter of fact, he found himself aimlessly meandering amidst the trees surrounding his lake out of pure boredom and nothing more. All of the other Guardians, after all, were too preoccupied with their tasks to give him anything to do. Christmas was not a month away, and North had told Jack to come by and visit after his work was completed.

"Would love to play games, Jack, but I have important issues to deal with for to bring children good Christmas. Go see Tooth, I'm sure she'll be happy that you stopped by, yes?" Jack could remember North's preaching as the jolly, rushed Russian man helped Phil stack some toy robots, before taking a second glance at them. "Eh, we still have time. Paint them red." So Jack flew up to Tooth's palace, and though he was unexpected, the fairies welcomed him. Their squeaking form of communication slightly irritated the winter spirit, since he hadn't really taken the time out to learn what they were saying. He managed to find Baby Tooth, the fairy that had accompanied him with most of his adventure before becoming a Guardian. She'd been spending more time with Toothiana nowadays though, being Tooth's most trusted, right hand fairy. The small, sweet fairy finally told him, through a number of gestures and hand signs, that Tooth had gone out to collect teeth with some of her other fairies, just to make sure that it was safe before she cut them loose. Jack considered staying and waiting for her, but Baby Tooth also told him that she would be back out later anyway, so he gave up and bid Baby Tooth farewell before flying in search of Sandman. However, he seemed busy as well, sending good dreams to the children of the world and warding off any unwanted nightmares in the process.

And, just because he really didn't feel like being alone, he thought about going and hanging out with Bunny, only to shake his head in disbelief and return to what he called his home.

_You're actually desperate enough to go to the Kangaroo? He'll probably just tell you to go away the moment you step into the Warren. _He thought to himself coldly, touching his feet upon the slick, smooth surface of the frozen lake. The lake was always frozen; even in the heat of summer, Jack would make sure to keep it coated with ice and frosted with sparkling snow. He didn't really know why; maybe it was some sort of memorial service, a dedication for the abrupt ending his past life and his rebirth. No one ever thought anything of it, after all, it was smack dab in the center of the forest. No one bothered to wander this far into the woods, but had they come across the frozen lake that they probably didn't even know existed, odds are they'd shake it off and say it was their _imagination. _This is often what he heard adults call it when he put icicles above their doorway in spring (much to Bunny's disliking).

Being more bored than ever, Jack flung his staff over his shoulder and headed into the woods, deciding to walk around some more before calling it a day. He was unaware of the Nightmares discreetly hiding amongst the trees.

But gradually, he felt the slightest bit of unease. It was a strange concept, feeling uneasy in the place that he considered home. His pale, childlike face looked up into the sky as he walked, his ice blue eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. From his lips, he allowed a sardonic comment about the moon staring at him like a creeper, accompanied with a yawn to show that he was just about to hit the hay.

And then he heard it; that voice.

"_Hello! Is there anyone there?!" _

Hearing it caused him to freeze in place, his breath catching in his throat and his grip on his staff changed from merely keeping it in place to holding onto it for dear life. He knew the voice, but it wasn't his sisters, nor was it from anyone else's mouth.

_That's my voice. _Jack thought to himself as he realized he'd cried the words out uncontrollably, and his breath slowly came back to him in brief, almost hushed shivers.

Suddenly, his woods didn't seem as comforting. They seemed so… lonely. Something in the back of his mind told him to fly off and never return, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. He could barely bring himself to look up as the moonlight was slowly smothered out of the sky. The dark of the night had always sent shivers of discomfort down Jacks' spine, and that's always when the moonlight would shine through and illuminate a path, and he'd feel a greater sense of security than that of which he'd felt in the dark. Now, the pale moonlight was blotted out by black storm clouds, and his mind was equally clouded with darkness. It was tantamount to a punch to the face, how quickly the dreadful, familiar feeling overpowered him. It caused him to zone out of reality, and though he finally brought himself to turn around and try to walk out of the woods, he was constantly stumbling over tree roots and stepping on thorns and spikes. He didn't notice the many long gashes and deep cuts that he'd acquired as he continued through the forest, his blood freezing once it made a decent sized streak upon his jeans. Jack couldn't say why he wasn't flying, because with his staff in hand it was as easy as thinking 'I want to go to Antarctica'. The wind would take it from there, all you had to do was keep your body at a certain angle and you'd be on your way. But subconsciously, something was eating away at him, causing his thoughts to be jumbled and irrelevant, therefore flying was out of the question. Jack pressed on, no longer being able to recall his destination - did he have one to begin with? - and he felt the curiosity and happiness slowly drain from him. This little walk in the woods gradually began to make him feel anxious and fearful. And the worst part was he didn't even know why. He'd grown extremely drowsy after aimlessly wandering for what seemed like forever, the eerie feeling shrouding him further with hopelessness and confusion. What was going on? Was he dreaming? Should it be daylight already, or was it just him? There was a brief moment when he'd paused his little stroll and looked down at his feet, noticing the blood and the dirt but not feeling the slightest amount of pain or stinging._ I must be really tired, this all must be my inagination,_ he thought to himself meekly, before looking back at the woods, his eyes void with emotion but his insides churning worriedly. Dark, hazy shadows seemed to gather beneath the trees and festered there for the night. Jack stood, paralyzed in his tracks once more as he took a moment to inspect the trees surrounding him. They were all towering over him in an intimidating manner, with long and jagged branches to use as swords to impale their enemies and thick bark to use as a shield to protect themselves. They appeared to be fearless warriors that were out to get him, but didn't notice that he was standing before them.

To be blunt, the trees actually reminded him of the Guardians.

It was ironic, really, how the forest was mocking him, because you see, the trees were all around him, cornering him even, but they didn't even have to move to make him feel like this. They never spoke to him, never bothered to acknowledge their existence. They just looked onward, disregarding - no, refusing - to notice the young spirit of fun in any way, shape, or form. He was invisible even to the trees, and even if they could see him, he was just... there. He had no real business with the trees, he was just there for no reason. And he began to tremble after seeing that some of the trees didn't appear to like him at all, clutching their boomerangs with their arms drawn back, ready to strike.

Drowsiness finally got the best of him, and he could make out blurry faces etched upon the bark of the trees. They were distorted and marred, quite a frightening sight in Jack's mind. He took a startled step back, only to bump into another one of the faces. Their crudely carved lips didn't move when they spoke, partially because it wasn't their voices; they were the Guardian's could hear them echoing throughout the forest, and he spun around, determined to find the source and destroy it, lest it torment him until he found his way out. Little did he know that it was all coming from his own mind.

"But no one believes in you, do they? You see, you're _invisible_, mate; it's like you don't even exist." Bunnymund's voice bounced off of every tree, wriggling its way into Jack's mind and eating away at him. It tore him apart. Without thinking, Jack punched the tree accompanied with a cry of despair, proceeding to yank off one of its wooden lips. He pulled the blue sleeve of his hoodie, revealing scars and cuts that had yet to heal. Jack swiped away at his wrist wrist of the hand clutching is staff, mercilessly, ignoring the splinters and pieces of wood that had jammed themselves into the cuts. And without warning, it all came flooding over him, overwhelming him to the point where he wished he didn't even exist.

"Jack, I'm scared!"

"You're greatest fear is that you'll never be believed in; and you fear you'll never know why."

"I'm a bunny. The _Easter_ Bunny. People _believe_ in me."

"Who is Jack Frost?"

"No one, honey, it's just an expression."

"Do you want them, Jack? Your memories?"

"Come on, Jack, you can't have fun all the time."

"Oh, so like a neutral party? Then, I'm gonna ignore you, heh, but you must be used to that."

"You put me here! The least you could do is tell me... tell me why."

"We had everyone's memories here. Yours too."

"You're gonna be… you're gonna be fine, uh… we-we're gonna have a little fun instead!"

"Well, I hate to break it to ya, mate, but you ain't ever gonna be seen, by anyone! 'Cause ya see, no one believes in you. No one _cares._"

"Would I trick you?"

"Jack... what have you done?"

"Yes, you _always _play tricks!"

"We_ should never have trusted you!"_

"You said you wanted to be alone. _So be alone!_"

At the last comment, he grew paranoid, looking at the trees pleadingly, dropping the bloody piece of bark and beginning to cry. "No, I… I didn't mean…" he began to say, only to break down in tears after they repeated like some sort of chant throughout the dread infested forest. It was overpowering; the voices overlapped and in a matter of seconds his head began to throb in pain. He fell to his knees, dropping his staff to better plug his ears in hopes of silencing the voices. No such luck. The sound of his sobbing was drowned out by his sister's fear stricken voice. "_Jack!_" It didn't take much longer for the exhaustion to catch up with him, and he toppled over on his side, closing his eyes and finally giving in to the sleepy spell cast by none other than the nightmare sand itself. And before he knew it, Jack was drowning again.

~About an hour later, same location~

"Oi! Frostbite!" Bunny's thick Australian accent rang throughout the forest as he searched for the winter spirit. North had told him, in the middle of the night whilst he was just falling asleep nonetheless, to get up and start looking for the little bugger, "I feel that he is not doing so good after I send him away. I feel it..."

"Oh, strewth, North, please don't say it."

"In my belly!"

So, of course, he was dragged out here against his will to look for the mischievous spirit. And the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with a sarcastic little turd this late at night. "A'right, where are ya, ya lil rascal? Play time's over, we're headin' back to the Pole! Now!" he hollered impatiently, hoping that Jack would come out of hiding, an expression written on his face that resembled his disappointment for not being able to close the day with a good laugh. Bunnymund made his way deeper into the forest, his ears straight up and his nose twitching as it caught Jack's scent. "Gotcha now, ya gumby." he stated with a tired growl and began pursuing the scent. "Frost, this better be good for gettin' me up this late…" he began to scold, expecting Jack to laugh or throw a snowball at him, or something of that nature. When he was greeted with silence, though, he'd begun to worry. He continued to follow the scent, which was growing stronger with every step. When he'd finally caught sight of Jack, though, he wasn't expecting what he saw at all.

Jack Frost he knew was strong, stubborn as a mule, and at times didn't really know when to quit. He was the spirit of fun, starting snowball fights wherever he went and refusing to let up when someone told him that he had to stop doing something, because he would argue that it's what he was made to do. The boy in front of him couldn't possibly be the same Jack Frost. This boy was sprawled against he cold, thick mud in a sobbing mess, his feet covered with blisters, scratches, thorns, and mud of course. The lower part of his jeans had actually been ripped open, telling Bunny that he had been running instead of flying, but was he running from something? Bunny couldn't say. The trembling boy was covering his ears, his staff carelessly thrown aside like a piece of trash. Jack always propped his staff up when he wasn't using it, no matter the occasion. If he was told to give it to somebody, he would decline and set it somewhere the others thought was no longer a problem but where he could easily reach it. Despite his lack of serious wounds or missing limbs, Bunny still hopped over to the young boy worriedly, just in time to see the remnants of nightmare sand depart his head and flow freely into the wind. Bunnymund growled, stepping in front of Jack protectively and plucking his boomerang out, expecting it to shape shift into a black mare and attack what had come for its energy source.

He really didn't expect Pitch Black to materialize from the shadows of the trees and look down on him expectantly.

"Pitch!" Bunny shouted, pulling his arm back to throw his boomerang.

"Hush! You'll wake him," his voice was almost hoarse, his arms crossed and his eyes bloodshot.

The Guardian of Hope seemed confused at Pitch's weak demeanor and is minimal effort to defend himself. The bunny slowly lowered his arm, only to resume his stance once a thought came over him.

"_What did you do to him?!" _he snarled once more, a little quieter this time. Pitch inspected the bunny, as if trying to put pieces of a puzzle together in his mind.

"Quit bloody starin' at me like that and tell me what you-"

"Does the boy know?"

Bunny's nose twitched in confusion, his bright emerald eyes widening in surprise. His ears slightly drooped.

"Wh-what? What are you talking about?"

Pitch sighed, sitting calmly leaning against the tree whose shadow allowed him to reveal himself and looked at Jack.

"You care about the boy, do you not? You care for his safety, his wellbeing… or am I wrong?" there wasn't a tone of sarcasm or anger to be found from the Nightmare King's voice. He was merely speaking the blunt truth.

Bunnymund's balance faltered, and he widened his stance to keep from falling over. "Why is it any of your concern, you pest?"

Pitch disregarded his last two words and continued to stare at the sky. "I am the _Nightmare King, _Aster. I feed off of fear. I found Jack, and although he had fear, it didn't last as long as I'd expected it too."

Bunny's nose flared as his rage seemed to heighten. "You bloody-"

"After that, there was nothing but sadness."

Bunny's arm became rigid, his grip on the boomerang tightening to the point where Pitch thought it would snap. His arm slowly fell, and he brought himself to talk to the dark spirit without any threats or anger.

"Sadness?"

Pitch turned away. "Yes. He's practically _drowning _in it." he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, remembering that short rush from the succulent memory of him falling through the ice. But it vanished as fast as it came. He turned to face Bunny, whose expression had softened plenty enough for Pitch to show slight anger.

"I could only take so much fear from the boy, because the truth is, there's not much fear there. When I try to feed off of him, I feel a sense of loneliness… a sense of being lost… longing… hopelessness. Do you know why that is?"

Bunny dropped his boomerang onto the ground. After Pitch said that he was "feeding off Jack" made him feel furious, but the anger was squandered with the following words. He felt hopeless.

"As much as I adore his fear," Pitch admitted, hanging his head low. "The others pushed me out… I couldn't take it anymore, I withdrew. True, the boy is _scared…_but when it comes to fear of the Guardians, I can be the first to say it's simply not as satisfying."

Bunny nearly fell backward. _What did that bloke just say? _He thought to himself, preparing to ask what Pitch had meant, but the Nightmare King had already disappeared, hissing something under his breath before he completely vanished. _"Your name is written upon his wrists..."_

It took a minute to settle with him as he thought hard about what Pitch had told him. _"The boy is scared…but when it comes to fear of the guardians…" _Bunnymund almost couldn't believe what he'd heard. He must be lying, he _had _to be lying! There was no way…

And that's when it hit him.

Even though he hadn't said anything to Jack of not being believed in, it didn't mean it wasn't still there. He remembered Pitch's words. "_I feel a sense of loneliness…a sense of being lost…longing…hopelessness."_

_"Your name is written upon his wrists..." _Pitch's last words echoed in his mind, and Bunnymund took in a sharp breath.

Bunny heard a whimper behind him. He wasted no time kneeling next to Jack and cradling his head with his arm, the other one carefully pulling the boy's sleeve down his arm. Sure enough, Pitch's words were true. Well, to an extent. His name wasn't literally on his wrists, they were simply sliced open, bits of wood prodding up from the skin. He'd been bleeding until his frost had covered it, making it glisten as the moonlight finally pressed through the stormclouds. _Your name is written upon his wrists... _Was Pitch trying to say that Jack was cutting because of him. Well, he'd been right about the cutting, and didn't appear to be lying when sharing his experience in Jack's mind. Which probably meant everything else was true as well. "Oh Jack..." Bunny's cracked voice whimpered, before he gently lifted the boy up in his arms, grabbing his staff, and tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. "This... this my fault, why you're this way... I'm so... I'm..." he blinked the tears out of his eyes. Jack began to stir, his ice blue eyes slightly open but taking in that Bunny was holding him.

"Hey, Frostbite..." Bunny coaxed softly with a warm smile as Jack tried to completely open his eyes, without much success. The Spirit of Fun, still exceptionally drowsy, managed to mumble a barely comprehensible comment in a slurred voice. "He-hey…whaddaya… pumme down, kangroo…" he said, before eating his own words andweakly burrowing himself deeper into the soft gray fur of the Pooka. The Easter Bunny couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Yeah, you're gonna be jus' fine, ya lil bugger," he assured as he carefully descended the hole that led to North's workshop.

* * *

_There will be a part two to this chapter, I promise! I just don't want to cram it down your throat, so the fluffy stuffy will probably come in the follow up to this. I'll probably be able to upload the next part tomorrow, and **please be warned that I probably won't be able to upload Monday-Friday, mainly because my (stupid, poor, pathetic, stupid, dumb, retard and prep-infested, butt wipe of a) school takes up all of my time and flushes it down the toilet. So yeah. :\ Consider this like an introduction to when Bunny apologizes (he almost did, didya see that!?) , because I'm not really in a fluffy mood, I'm in more of a leave-me-the-heck-alone-or-I'll-chop-your-head-off type of mood. : ) lub ya guys!_

_969~696_


	3. Forgetting the Repercussions, Pt 2

_Very Long Author's Note (or apology, rather): Hey guys, I know I haven't been uploading as often as I told you guys I would, but I will work at trying to upload my chapters more regularly so it's easier for the both of us. I also apologize in advance if the quality of this chapter seems lesser than those that have been posted before it, because I'm writing this crammed in a crowded minivan with five other people on their way to an archery shoot that's at least four hours away from where I live, typing one-handed the majority of the time because of this Starbucks iced peppermint mocha, and it's very chaotic and distracting in here, believe you me. I have a reason for the delayed update though. In a fit of unjustifiable (well, maybe) and completely unnecessary (I think?) fit of paternal rage, my father took my laptop away for quote-on-quote, "giving him that same old 'I know everything' attitude that you can expect from a fifteen year old". _: | _And this fifteen year old was not very happy after said stereotypical statement, so this might not be the, eh… fluffiest chapter yet, if you know what I mean._

_Aaanyways, I'd rather not bore you with my really crappy week so far. Which reminds me… just so you know, I'm not a government issued robot whose occupation is to monitor the peace of the fan fiction world (if they actually existed, that would be pretty cool, though). So I won't send you something like "unable to comply; do not reply to this message or surveillance units will be deployed to your current location". I imagine that would be just a tad bit scary to hear. That being said, don't think that I'm like an online counselor or anything, because I'm not a very social person in reality. Especially at parties. I. HATE. PARTIES. :| I've spoken into a microphone once in my life, and that was just yesterday at the Day of Silence convention they had at my school. And I cried. It was so embarrassing. Um, back to what I was saying, I don't mind if you guys have something totally irrelevant and random to say to me, so long as it doesn't threaten my wellbeing and my disliking for politics. : ) I'm openminded and nonjudgmental, so I think it'd be pretty cool to hear from you if something totally crazy just happened. Or if you want to suggest a chapter song. Because I love music, and I'm willing to try just about anything._

_THE FOLLOWING THREE NOTES ARE EXTREMELY IMPORTANT._

_1. Okay, so you know how in this oneshot (and in many others on fan fiction) Jack is a cutter? Well, when I first watched the movie, I thought to myself "I don't think he'd actually bring himself to do something like that-" and then I watched the scene where he lifts Baby Tooth and says "Sorry, I can only keep you _cold_." Yeah, do me a solid. Go to that scene, pause it, and look at his wrists. Oh. Merh. Gawd. I had no idea that he actually cut himself in the movie, that's freakin' unbelievable! I told my brother about it, and he said "Nu-uh, or it wouldn't have been a kids movie!" Well they concealed it enough for the kids not to notice, but oh my god, I totally did not see that coming. Y u no love immortal life Jack?! ... __!EDIT^^;! So it turns out lotsa you people looked at that when I asked you to (which I thank you for, by the way) and took a look at his wrists for me. Um, turns out that they're most likely _not _cuts. :[ So whilst it might have looked that way to me, it turns out they're actually natural markings in his skin because, as noted from a fellow helpful reviewer, his skin is very dehydrated and certain parts on his skin appear redder because of this. :| Yeah, I'm not very good at explaining these sorta things, so uh... They're not cuts. But I still feel that how the animators placed them like that, so they could be seen, while he was in an emotional sort of low (and physically because he fell down through a crevice in the ice) could actually symbolize something... So yeah. On my Yolo list, _Unintenionally cause fans to panic and prove you wrong because you weren't paying attention _has now been crossed off. Well, at least I'm that much closer to _Unintentionally cause friends to panic by saying one of your loved ones is dying when really they're just spending the night at the hospital, _right? :D_

_2. I have a fan fiction idea that I've wanted to start for a while now, but I wanted to ask your guys' opinion (because you guys are too awesome for words) : I have the entire story set (but not written) out, and yes, there will be (oh no, I'm gonna say it!) OCs. (You: NUUU!) Hear me out before you skip over this section completely! Personally, I think that having your own characters in something is a pretty neat idea, so long as the character fit's a certain criteria. For example, I like it when OCs have interesting personalities, tragic backstories (for whatever reason…) and an acceptable sense of humor. They can't be perfect, because that just destroys the entire story and it's no longer special. And I also can't stand it when an OC is, um, a _little too made _for an original character. Then it's just weird. But hey, that's just my opinion, don't hunt me down and assassinate me for it :P So yah, it'll be approximately 22 chapters long, 5,000 words per chapter give or take, all of the original characters, and yes, two or three OCs that play an important part in the storyline. There will be more, but they will be used in one chapter and then forgotten the next, because no one loves those OCs and they deserve to be invisible :) I've had a pretty gnarly mean streak all week, it's getting pretty bad lately. If things go smoothly, though, this Oneshot collection thingy will contain oneshots of these three categories: Original characters only, Original and OCs, and Just OCs. The character names will be presented like they are below, so if you don't care for the OC related ones, just skip over them. This means that if you want just original characters, there will be no references or relations to the original characters in any way, otherwise it would be in Original and OCs. So everyone's happy. : ) Should I go for it?_

_3. THIS IS THE SECOND PART OF THREE FOR THE WHOLE "REPERCUSSIONS" THING. THAT BEING SAID, THE THIRD PART WILL NOT BE POSTED FOR AT LEAST 1-2 WEEKS OR SO. I'M SORRY, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA AS TO WHEN I WILL HAVE FREE TIME TO WORK ON IT, SO JUST BEAR WITH ME HERE AND SUBSCRIBE TO GET NOTIFIED OR SOMETHING. : ( SORRY GUYS, THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN LIFE HAPPENS. DOESN'T IT SUCK?_

_As usual, you guys are too awesome for words, and if I could possibly find out where each and every one of you lived and could go there to show my appreciation through crappy interpretive dance, then you know that I would! XD … _:| _Just, just kidding…I wouldn't really… just read, people._

* * *

Chapter Three: ~Pitch, all of the guardians, and Phil~ Forgetting the Repercussions Pt.2

Chapter Song: Leave Out all the Rest, by Linkin Park :D (if you listen to the chapter songs, you will probably cry :)

The last bit of strength and willpower that the winter spirit had left in him was beginning to fade, and it was fading rapidly. Jack could no longer determine who his opponent was or why they were doing this to him. He found it hard to focus on his surroundings as he was repetitively lifted up by the collar of his jacket and thrown down onto the lake - his lake! - causing the ice to crack a little more with every slam. He was much too dizzy to stand up on his own, so when his assaulter pulled him up and set him on his feet, he toppled backward once more, not even trying to keep his head from colliding with the ice once more. This only complicated matters, seeing that his vision was even blurrier and his ears were now ringing. He couldn't tell whether he was trembling or if he was back in the air again and being shaken around like a rag doll. Everything was moving too fast… or was it too slow? Every movement was hazy and unclear, every sound distant and too soft to make out… or was it too loud to understand? There was only one word that could fully describe him right now.

Helpless.

Helpless and hopeless. He had to glance up and see that there were no trees surrounding him to finally realize that none of this was reality and that this was all just a dream. Hell, he had to see his battered reflection in the ice to remember his own name, his own identity. Jack Frost. But when he got to thinking about it, completely ignoring the voice that was yelling at him from above - or was it the voice inside of his head? - he couldn't help but wonder, _who _was _Jack Frost? This couldn't possibly be him. _He couldn't have been a fearless, headstrong Guardian; he didn't feel like one right now, at least. He felt weak and unwanted, wondering why the Man in the Moon would even waste his energy resurrecting someone like him if all he was good at was freezing children to death and cutting without the consequence of death?

And then there was that voice, that eerily familiar voice that was constantly shouting at him, though he couldn't tell whether it was originating from his head or directly from his assaulter. But he heard a voice, an angry booming voice that was asking him questions. All sorts of questions! All questions that he didn't have the answers to. Did he?

"_Why is there no fear!? What are you!?"_

_Lonely, _he thought to himself as he was lifted up into the air again. Or was he in the air this entire time?

"_Aren't you scared!?"_

_No._

"_I am the Boogeyman! Why aren't you fighting back, Frost?! Your fate is in my hands - literally! Do you not fear death?! I can take your life!"_

Pitch managed to look into Jack's unfocused eyes long enough to see a tear spilling over his cheek.

"No. You can't. I've already tried." he whimpered, the Nightmare King momentarily replacing his bloodthirsty scowl with a shocked expression. "And if you can," Jack chuckled sardonically. "Then do it already. What difference will it make?"

For a second, Pitch couldn't believe what he was was simply giving up, unable - or just not willing - to put up a fight anymore. He wasn't even going to try to defend himself. For the first few minutes, Pitch sensed that Jack was fear stricken, his limbs paralyzed and his heart racing faster than he ever thought possible. The words seemed to spill from Pitch naturally, knowing that it was what got to the boy. The trees presaged the nightmare, but by the time he was asleep, he was exhausted, sick of the taunts and the voices. He tried to fight before, for a moment or two, then he tried to ignore it. But Pitch slowly came to see that it was eating away at him. It tore him apart. And he ceased struggling, allowing them to overcome him, infect his mind, consume the remnants of his hope and curiosity… quite frankly, he was dead.

Not literally, mind you, but mentally. Jack had died, thus, not producing any fear for the Nightmare king to feed off of. Not producing any emotions, really. And, when Pitch gently placed him onto the ice, reassuring himself that the sickening crack that he'd heard was not the boy's head but the ice beneath him, he could sense them, the emotions that sometimes managed to reveal themselves. One of the downsides of being able to feed off of fear was that you became what you consumed, fortifying the saying "you are what you eat". He was the personification of fear, but felt weak when he came too close to young Jack. He felt the overwhelming urge to burst into tears and fall onto his knees, images flashing in his mind as they'd probably appeared to the winter spirit: a very angry Pooka glaring down upon him with an inaudible taunt escaping his lips, a brief image of bloody wrists, a reflection in the ice that was not of him, but a little girl…

Pitch couldn't take it; he couldn't risk being around him this long. The dark spirit stepped away from Jack, who was now curled into a ball and sobbing softly into his own arms, probably because no one would offer their own. Because he firmly believed that no one wanted him around…

And that's when it hit Pitch.

This was the bunny's fault.

Pitch put the images together in his mind. Okay, so it wasn't _all _the Pooka's fault, the guardians had a play in it, but he was a good majority of the problem. Pitch's pale hands shook nervously, taking a deep breath through his nostrils before kneeling next to the boy and placing his hand on his forehead. The memories shot through him like a bullet, and he recoiled, clutching his chest and trembling incessantly. Jack had begun to bawl loudly now, the memories now recalled and brought to the front of his mind, thanks to Pitch's snooping.

One of the worst things about being a dark spirit was that you were, no matter your personality or appearance, a cold and heartless being. You were automatically a frightening, ill-intending, heartless spirit that shouldn't even exist. And, yes, Pitch considered himself to be frightening. Ill-intending, maybe. Heartless, no. Never heartless. He had a heart, especially for this boy. When Pitch had told Jack that he knew how he felt, he wasn't lying. He felt his pain, his loneliness, his longing for a family and longing to be appreciated and wanted by others. The Nightmare King also wasn't lying to him when he said they would both rule. True, Jack had a good reason for not trusting him, but if he had, Pitch wouldn't have left Jack to be forgotten like he would have done to all of the other guardians. No, he just couldn't bring himself to do that. In fact, had he not been denied apprenticeship (rather rudely, if you asked him) by Jack, he didn't think that he could even bring himself to break his staff, his _center_. At the time, the awestruck pain written upon Jack's face fueled him with a sense of satisfaction and vengeance. But seeing what was there now… to be honest, it made Pitch want to comfort the boy, to kneel down next to him and draw him into a fatherly hug, to reassure him that they were just bad dreams. After all, that was all they were in the first place, and nothing more.

However, he couldn't bring himself to do this either. He was an evil spirit, and they didn't comfort.

But guardians did. In the end, he made a decision that personally he was proud of. He would get the bunny, make the bunny see the sadness. Things would follow through from there. He could only hope for fear, and no more sadness, no more silence. Jack's fear was the best, even if it was of the Easter Bunny, as ironic as it sounded.

* * *

"Why am I still waiting? Find boy and come back, is not hard," North grumbled to himself as he sat in front of the globe impatiently, slightly irritated at his furry companion for his ignorance of wasting precious time. Well, it was precious to _North_, anyway, and that's all that really mattered in this situation. The jolly Russian had always assumed that he considered all time "precious" because of Christmas; because of all the marvels and wonders that had to be made, all the toys to sort out and wrap, all the stockings to be stuffed with sour suckers and sugary sweets, although Tooth didn't really approve of the whole stocking bit. Nonetheless, it was around this time (a month or two before Christmas, sometimes even earlier) that he'd grow anxious, and until he could finally manage to reassure himself that he was prepared and that everything would run smoothly, he refused to relax. More than once did he instruct the yetis to check, double check, and check everything again to ensure that everything was just fine. If that didn't do the trick though, Tooth would temporarily cease her work and, with some of her fairies, help the yetis to prepare in any way they could. This seemed to ease North's mind quite a bit, which was what she was aiming to do. And then, on Christmas eve, his nervousness seemed to vanish completely, replaced with content, and… well, _jolly._

He was always jolly on Christmas, and there were many reasons why - too many to count, even. But out of all the things there were to love about the holiday, there was one breathtaking thing in particular about Christmas that he loved. Just like the Guardian of Memories did, he loved seeing the children while they slept. For whatever reason, seeing the happiness upon their round rosy faces lit up his own, knowing that though they were restless with curiosity and wonder, they peacefully dreamt of what the next day would bring. And if someone - anyone - were to try to disturb that glistening spark of wonder, try smothering it with darkness and fear, he showed no hesitation. He would retaliate, drawing his machetes and charging at the offender with no fear, except for that of the frightened child's fate. This is what North didn't like to see on Christmas Eve: nightmares prying their way into the children's dreams and infecting them. It left their previously glowing, smiling faces fear stricken, void, or desolate. Some of them almost seemed lost, and… lonely. It tore North apart when he saw children like this, made him feel like he failed them, which only fueled his rage and his determination to bring the spark back. To be blunt, he hated seeing their faces because they appeared almost lifeless. And it scared him, chilled him to the bone.

This was probably the reason why, when he saw Jacks empty, pale face snuggled into the Pooka's chest as they came up from the workshops' floor, he shuddered and exclaimed, to no one specifically, "Man in Moon, have mercy! What happened?"

Bunnymund was panting heavily, holding a sleeping (and excessively muddy) Jack Frost in his shaking, furry arms with his long ears perked up fretfully. "No time to explain, mate, he's bleedin'." The bunny spat out.

"Bleeding!? Where? Where are the wounds?" North exclaimed boisterously, jumping up to his feet and joining Bunny. The Pooka could see now that the guardian of wonder was now in overprotective daddy mode. Unfortunately, so was he. "How did he get them? Was it _Pitch? _That fiend! I will end him!"

"Listento me, ya gumby! I'll tell ya what happened later! Which way's the infirmary?"

"Up the stairs, second door on left! Apply pressure to wounds, I'll fetch Phil!" And with that, the fearful guardian stormed off, shouting for Phil in Yetish at the top of his lungs.

Without hesitation, Bunny held the sound boy closer to him, hopping swiftly and carefully up to the room, despite his aching legs and hurting chest. The Pooka gently placed him upon one of the several crystal white beds and, after placing his staff against the bed, took his small wrists in one of his paws. As he pressed his other paw into the cuts, Jack stirred and gradually regained consciousness. "Ugh, my head… Bunny?" he drowsily mumbled, still somewhat sleeping, until the pain from his wrists began to intensify. "Hey, what're y- Ow! Dude, that really… really…" Jack was sitting up now, resuming the usual arguing that he usually did. Then, after he took in what was actually happening as well as recalling the events prior to falling asleep, he sharply pulled away.

"It's okay, Frostbite," Bunny tried to reassure in return, seeing the fear and surprise in Jack's wide eyes. "You're gonna be fine, mate, it's okay now…"

The expression upon Jack's face wasn't changing, and Bunny knew all too well what was going through the young boy's mind. Anger. Embarrassment. Surprise. Disbelief. Confusion. The Pooka had seen situations like this dozens of times before. From what he'd gathered, when children were caught in the act of cutting, they weren't really want to be around anybody, because the humiliation and confusion always ate away at them. They fled almost every time because they didn't know what else to do, much less how to feel about it. And, just as Aster expected, Jack leapt himself off the bed, grabbed the staff and ran for the window, just barely making it out as Bunny reached for him.

* * *

Jack was dreaming. He _had _to be dreaming. There was no way it was happening.

One moment he was on the ice of his lake, battered, bruised, and crying. He was cold, and it was dark. And lonely. He was so lonely. He was so lonely, and crying seemed the only way to make him feel better. Well, that, and… and then he felt himself being lifted up and held in someone's arms. Whosever they happened to be, they were warm and furry. Jack couldn't really see all that well, but when he noticed that it was Bunny, all he could do was let out a sarcastic comment about him being a kangaroo before the drowsiness overtook him.

Then he was crying again. He was back on the lake again, sobbing, cold, darkness, lonely… crying was the only way he could feel better; well, that and… speaking of which, he felt a strange tingling sensation upon his wrists and all over his calves and feet that made him slowly stir out of his dream. He was lying in a bed… so it all had to be a dream, right? That made him feel a bit better, it meant that Sandy…

And then he saw Bunny, and felt a sudden sense of resentment towards the keeper of dreams, because the _last _person he wanted in his dreams was this guy. Jack's head was pounding, and after briefly complaining about it to his enemy (who no doubt found it annoying and uncalled for, just like everything else he did) he came to realize that it wasn't the only thing hurting. His feet began to feel where he'd been pricked and scraped, but was nothing compared to his wrists. And as Jack regained a sort of ability to put piece and piece together, he saw why.

"Hey, what're y- Ow! Dude, that really… really…" he started to say, seeing what was happening before him. Bunny was looking down on him with green eyes - those damned green eyes that were always glaring at him! - but with compassion… almost sympathetic, or apologetic… and Jack saw that he was grabbing his wrists.

Not grabbing. Applying pressure.

To stop the bleeding.

His wrists.

He knew that his thoughts on the matter were written upon his face when he heard Bunny's words.

"It's okay, Frostbite,"

_No it's not._

"You're gonna be fine, mate, it's okay now…"

_No, no I'm not. This wasn't supposed to happen, this was never supposed to happen, ever._

Jack shot a quick, anxious glance around, the pulsing in his head growing stronger with every fearful thought he had.

_They know. They all know now. And if they don't, soon they will. They'll be mad at me. No, they'll laugh at me. Bunny will yell at me. Or he'll threaten me. Or worse._

_I have to get out of here._

That last thought drove him over the edge. Despite the Pooka's reassuring words, Jack wasted no time jumping from the bed, grabbing his staff, and leaping out the window. The wind came just in time, setting his shaking feet upon the ground as gently as it could muster. It tried to soothe him, though his thoughts were so rapid nothing really got through to him at this point.

"Wind! Take me somewhere! Anywhere!" he shouted with a hoarse voice and he began running full speed forward. He didn't know where he was going at this point.

Don't worry. Neither did the wind, therefore it decided that it wouldn't lift him up and take him away from the help that came sprinting toward him. Jack realized this when he felt the snowy breeze of the North Pole die out, and he felt a surge of both fear and adrenaline shoot through him. This only made him run faster. After all, the only word that would make sense in his jumbled head as of right now was _run. _

But his running, though it was faster than he ever thought possible, was no match for Bunnymund's, since he jumped in front of him in a matter of seconds.

The words weren't even his. They just came spilling out, an instant and unstoppable reaction. "Go away! Get away from me!" Jack shouted, unbeknownst to himself what exactly was coming out of his mouth. Now, there was only one word going through his mind. _Panic. You're screwed. Panicpanicpanic._

Jack raised his staff, prepared to shoot the Easter Bunny with a ray of ice, before suddenly he felt tired again. His eyelids felt heavy, heavier now, and his knees eventually came to give out beneath him. He was caught by the same two furry arms that caught him not a day ago (which had to be some sort of record for him), and now the thoughts running through his mind were put more at ease by an outside force.

_Run! Run! He's right there! No, sleep… if you're tired, just sleep, it will be fine… No, no! I'll have nightmares! No you won't…I'll give you good dreams, Jack. Just sleep…_

And he was dreaming again. He was flying, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, dozens of kids waving from him as he passed by, accompanied by glistening golden dolphins made of dreamsand. The dolphin's were always his favorite.

* * *

"Thank's mate," Bunny said to Sandman as the little man slowly floated beside him. A small, formal cap shaped from dreamsand appeared over his head and Sandy tipped it towards his furry friend. Then, with a small nod of his head, he gestured toward Jack, a symbol of a sad face appearing over his head as if asking what the boy's mood was.

"Well, he isn't really in the best shape, mate, uh… Ya think ya can get him back at the pole's infirmary for me? M'legs are sorta tired after chasin' after the lil anklebiter around the first time."

Sandy nodded vigorously, before shooting another questioning glance at the boy and writing out, above his head, _In the best shape? :( _

"It's-it's pretty complicated, actually. I still hafta tell North exactly what happened… speakin' of which, he's probly in the room wonderin' where the heck we ran off to. Do me a solid mate?" Sandy nodded once more, and a floor of dreamsand appeared under the Bunny's large feet.

Jack was put back in the bed, his wounds cleansed, his wrists wrapped, and his dreams constantly monitored by Sandy. North called Tooth to the Pole, and when everyone arrived, Bunny explained to them what happened and what he saw. Afterwards, North was silent. Sandy looked sullen, pretty ashamed of himself for not being there to get rid of the nightmares in the woods. Tooth was crying at this point, ashamed for herself as well for not being there to protect him.

But Bunny was awestruck.

He never could see Jack harming himself, much less trying to take his own life. But he felt, out of all the Guardians, the _worst. _After all, he was sure that he was the cause of it. And he still didn't apologize.

Which was why, when Phil informed them that Jack was awake, Bunny was the first one in the room, telling the others to give him a few minutes alone before coming in to check on them. They seemed to understand (they were well aware of Bunny's previous attitude towards Jack) and granted him twenty minutes. "Then I'm going in there and holding him, no matter what!" Tooth interjected just before he entered the door.

Jack looked lifeless. His face was pale and tearstained, the moonlight reflecting the silent tears that slowly fell from his eyes. He was staring at the ceiling, blue bags hanging under his eyes as well as his greasy white hair. Tooth had come in prior to him waking up and washed his face of all the mud and tearstains. Aside from the mud, most of her work was erased. He was sitting up, resting against a chair of pillows and holding his hands as if he was praying - no, as if he were a child that just got caught doing something he knew he shouldn't have been, and was bracing himself to be reprimanded. He looked horrible, and didn't notice when the Bunny gently closed the door behind him and came towards the bed.

Jack's attention switched from the ceiling to the intruder, and he shot him and angry and confused look.

"What do _you _want?" he asked.

* * *

_Author's note: Dun Dun Duuun! Okay not really, but hear me out! I know that I promised fluffies but I just can't seem to make depressing things short. : ( Sorry. I really am. So next chapter, that is all there will be. There will only be fluff, I swear to you! Fluff, everywhere! But for now, we're left with this for probably another week (or two, depending on where I live next). Sorry, my life's been uber hectic and I have no idea where I'm going until I'm there. So for now, all I can say is that there will be fluff, but there will be waiting as well. (you: we want our fluffy, and we want it NOW!) D,: So sorry, guys, I hope that an extra long chapter of hugs and snuggles and all that happy jazz will allow you to forgive me. : ( I lub you guys (hides from pitchforks and torches)_

_Haven't edited this chapter yet. Please notify me of typos and I'll fix them, but odds are I can't edit this until I post the next chapter. :/ so yeah. Baibai :D_

_969~696_


	4. Forgetting the Repercussions Finale

_Author's Note: Well, finally. Guess who got her laptop back? Not me, this is my ma's computer. :[ So yeah. Anyways, I'll be sure to upload more frequent one shots during the summer, our school's getting ready for testing and it's gonna be a bitch, so I think it's best to wait until after school ends before getting to enthralled with this thing. Over the first part of summer vacation my friends and I we're planning a trip to Virginia City (aka the most haunted place in Nevada, I think) so I most likely won't upload a whole lot then. My grandpa used to live there, told me the most amazing stories about it… I love it there. Nuff said. This chapter song reminds me of it for some reason. In fact, this entire Bunny comforting Jack thing was inspired by a music video of RotG with this song. So beautiful :'( and way better than Taylor Swift's version._

_Therefore, without further ado,_

_Let the fluff commence (even though it starts of on a rather bitter note ^^;). _

* * *

Chapter Four: ~Bunnymund and Jack~ Forgetting the Repercussions Finale

Chapter Song: Safe and Sound, the Me Vs. Gravity version (sorry Tay-Tay, but these guys beat your version by FAR)

Jack glared at Bunny menacingly, his glassy blue eyes unwavering as the tall Pooka took a deep breath and rested his back against the wooden door. After realizing that holding this hateful stare towards the Guardian was not only pointless but childish (and a tad bit painful), Jack resorted to looking down at his hands. The anxiety and uneasy tension in the room that the winter spirit felt weighing him down was now projected through the shaky small hands as they began to form into fists. When he noticed his seemingly weak, trembling hands had begun clutching the empty air ruthlessly, it reminded him of something, something that happened not too long ago. A large, gray furry fist drawn back like an arrow on a bow, a fist that was drawn back by an uncontrollable and unfathomable rage. A rage that caused him to flinch and shrink back in fear…

"_We never should have trusted you!"_

Jack's jaw clenched at the foul memory, which led him to the one question that he desperately wanted answers to.

"What do _you _want?"

He didn't even know that he spoke the question out loud until after Bunny's ears twitched at their forcefulness. There was a brief pause that seemed to last forever before Bunny could bring himself to respond.

"I jus' wanna talk to ya 'bout somethin', mate."

Jack didn't hesitate. "Well I don't. Especially to you. So get out."

But he just stood there, his long ears slightly drooped at the response he received and his green-eyed gaze directed to the wall as if he was lost in thought. Jack couldn't keep himself from noticing how bright Bunny's eyes were as they remained fixated in the same place, how they had always managed to stand out no matter where he was; sort of like how the moon stood out to Jack when he first came up from the lake. They were expressionless as the Pooka thought to himself, something Jack had never seen in Bunny's eyes before, because they always seemed to say something. And when they did, it always caught the mischievous winter spirit's attention. Once he'd found himself fighting the urge to laugh when they clearly had _that's what she said _written all over them to something North pointed out. When the jolly old Russian started up the sleigh, Jack couldn't help but chuckle at their surprised expression; it most certainly made his day. And if Jack's own eyes weren't deceiving him, he could've sworn that Bunny's eyes appeared to glow. A vibrant, vivid green that lit up the room…

Sort of like how the gray, smug-ridden ones glowed and glowered at him as they faded into the dark, along with a sick toothy grin slowly dissolving into the black of the lair…

"_They'll never accept you, not really, because you're not one of them."_

"_You don't know what I am!"_

"'_Course I do, you're Jack Frost! You make a mess wherever you go – why, you're doing it _right now._"_

"…_What did you do?"_

"_More to the point, Jack: what did _you _do?"_

"Frostbite-"

Bunny flinched in surprise when without warning, Jack leapt from his bed and, with a cry of irritation, punched a hole in the wall next to the door.

"I said I don't wanna talk!" he hollered at Bunny with a hoarse voice, his face distorted with fury. "I don't wanna talk, and the last thing I need is for you - some hypocritical spirit that has freaking *cheimaphobia! - to come in here and suck up to me just to get the others off your back!"

Jack didn't realize what he'd done until after it happened. An awestruck Easter Bunny was staring at him in a most peculiar manner, a distant look of bewilderment engulfed by the unmistakable look of remorse and guilt. It was almost identical to the look of pity. For whatever reason, this pushed the new Guardian over the edge as a new wave of irrational views and fears flooded his disoriented mind.

Whilst they contaminated his thought process, Bunny stood dumbfounded, wondering if Jack knew he was an open book. It struck him odd as to why he didn't understand Jack most of the time if when his expression explained it all. The young boy must have thought that he was covering it up with his sardonic sarcasm and his carefree demeanor. Was it so easy to read him now because Jack now felt that he'd nothing left to lose? Or did he feel that he wasn't projecting his emotions and plainly as they were in reality?

In any case, Bunnymund could now see what was running through the boy's mind as he withdrew his tightly clenched fist from the drywall. It was written all over his face, and it hurt Bunny to see it. It was the same look he had when Bunny caught up with him outside the Pole. A fear-stricken look, the fright not completely hidden behind a mask of livid aggression and stubborn determination. A look one would expect to see on a wounded animal backed into a corner by bloodthirsty predators…

Bunny was pulled back into reality when Jack spoke to him again, his hushed voice beginning to quiver slightly.

"G-get out. I don't wanna talk, Bunny. Not to you, or to North… no-not to anyone…" Jack turned away from the guardian of hope as he began to hastily unwrap the bandages so carefully applied to his wrists. The bloodstained gauze fell to the ground. In his mind, he didn't need help, didn't need any medical attention or counseling; he most certainly didn't need any _pity_. He didn't need anything but some time alone,

And the staff that was propped up at the edge of the bed that he'd failed to notice was there up until now.

"Jack, listen to me," Bunny tried to place a paw on his shoulder to turn him around, but the boy cringed at the gesture and recoiled from it fearfully.

As of right now, Jack's thought process was a blur. He could remember telling Bunny to get out of his room and that he didn't want to talk, and he could remember taking the white bandages off of his wrists. He didn't know that he was now shouting at the top of his lungs, or had grabbed his staff and was shooting ice at the oversized rabbit, because the only words that made sense in his mind were the ones that had stuck with him ever since they first met.

_He's right behind me. Stay away, stay away! Don't show him you're scared, or that the words hurt, just stay away from him. But he can see me…he knows I'm there, but is it worth it? I don't know, maybe just…_

There was an incessant nagging in the back of his mind that tried to reason with him, tried to help him regain at least an ounce of his sanity back. One that reminded him all too much of a mute, uplifting man made of golden, glistening sand. One that said,

_You don't know he's gonna hurt you! Give him a chance. You know you have to talk sooner or later._

But they were drowned out by the relentless, overwhelming sense of fear and loneliness. And panic.

_Panicpanicpanic!_

Bunny barely had time to react when Jack grabbed his staff and blasted at him.

"Don't touch me!" the winter spirit shouted. "Don't you ever, _ever _touch me!" Bunny noticed that the teen's legs were trembling, and how the boy was completely unaware that his staff was following the lead of the shaky hands that gripped it. He ducked and dodged the incoming shots as he tried to get through the crazed spirit.

"Jack! Stop, please! I jus' wanna-"

"Get away from me! Get out!"

Bunny jumped off the wall just as a ray of ice was fired at him, and leapt behind Jack as the young boy recollected his bearings and realized what just happened. Jack flipped around, his back facing the wall and his guard slowly being let down when he saw that Bunny was no longer there. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and hoped it would rid him of the lightheaded feeling, and just as he lowered his staff, a blur of gray fell from the ceiling.

Bunny grabbed Jack's staff before he could raise it to expel another blast of ice energy and tossed it behind him, far out of reach from the winter spirit. He hoped that it would help to calm Jack down, but instead it appeared to make him feel even more threatened, now that he was defenseless.

And in Jack's mind, he was. He was defenseless and helpless. And, more than anything, he was scared; scared not only of what Bunny would do to him, he also feared for what would become of his relationship with the others, after all this was over. Being left alone again scared him more than anything. It made him want to lash out, to break things, to panic.

_Panicpanicpanic!_

Jack was panicking and could feel himself trembling all over, and for a number of reasons. The first being that his shepherd's crook was no longer between him and Bunny; that thought alone was enough to cause him to freak out like he did. The second was that he and all the other guardians now knew of his cutting. And they sent Bunny – of all spirits! – to suck up to him and pity him?

These only added to the devastating sense of emptiness deep inside of him. A sense of loneliness and hopelessness, dampened with the sour truth that all he was good at was making a mess wherever he went and getting children sick.

The pessimistic thoughts repeated themselves like a chant, driving him insane as they drove through his chest like an arrow shot from pain's bow, the string drawn back by misunderstanding and misunderstanding alone.

It tore him apart.

And the fact that the very being who told him all these things was standing before him didn't really help to calm him down. It scared him to death, made him panic.

Bunny watched as the boy before him clenched his eyes shut and began to throw trembling punches at him, allowing a few of the weak pelts to strike his chest as Jack's current state sank in to him as one that lacked a sense of love, and acknowledgement in general.

"Don't touch me! _Don't touch me_! I don't wanna talk! Just go away, leave me alone!" he sobbed angrily, his fists slamming into the Pooka, wanting nothing more but to hear him cry out in pain. But he didn't. He merely stood there and looked down on him with those bright eyes – those damn green eyes! The ones that always used to say to Jack with a loathsome glare, _You're a pest. You're an invisible pest, and no one believes in you, _but now said something that Jack just couldn't bear.

_Helpless._

_Poor, helpless, wounded little Jack Frost._

Bunny saw it, too, saw the rage that had accumulated there after nearly 300 years of abuse and neglect; therefore, he thought it best to allow him to let out his anger before he tried talking with him. After all, at the rate Jack was rapidly delivering what Bunny assumed were supposed to be punches, he would be worn out in a matter of minutes, if that.

And he was right. After Jack took out his anger on the Pooka for another five minutes or so, all the while screaming something at him deliriously that Bunny couldn't quite make out, the delirious winter sprite began to tire. He was exhausting himself, his energy gradually depleting to the point where his furious punches (which weren't really all that strong in the first place) were just meekly thrown fists directed to Bunny's chest. Without even trying to catch his breath, Jack attempted to run around Bunny and grab his staff to make it out the window. But he was caught off guard when a long, furry gray arm struck straight out and blocked his path. In a swift movement, one of Bunny's large feet swiped Jack's own out of under him, causing him to fall on his rump, his head nearly hitting the wall behind him. Taking advantage of Jack's momentary disorientation, Bunny hopped in front of him, resting one of his feet on Jack's calves in his default rabbit position to ensure that he wouldn't kick him in the face or something of the like. Using one of his paws, he carefully and nimbly held both of Jack's thin wrists in place and used the other to gently brush the white hair out of the winter spirit's eyes.

Jack was on the verge of hyperventilating, his limbs shaking uncontrollably and his head throbbing painfully. Hot tears were smudged all over his face to replace the stains that had been worn away. He was weakly trying to pull his hands free, without much success and instead only making the cuts throb as well. His words were jumbled, incomprehensible aside from a few words Bunny could barely make out, and most were cut off by his sobbing.

"I didn't mean-no, I… please, ple-I won't be- wo-won't go throu-ough that… ag-g-gain…, ju-just to-I d-don't wan- I-I-"

"Frostbite, look at me, mate," Bunny beckoned softly, gently cupping the stuttering boy's face with his paw and turning it to face him.

"Jack, breathe. Stop bloody crying and breathe."

Bunny never thought he'd see Jack in such a frightened, wrecked state. It only made him feel worse when he reminded himself that it was his fault. He was the reason why this spirit was so out of sorts, and it only fueled him to want to redeem it, to correct this mistake that's been eating away at the spirit – this child that Bunny bluntly refused to protect - for 300 years. And he wasn't sure how the boy would react to it.

Jack's bright blue eyes were wide with fear, but he complied to Bunny anyway, taking in deep quivering breaths at such a hasty pace that the Pooka had to rectify by telling him the air wasn't going anywhere and he had to breathe a little slower, unless he wanted to pass out. Jack's chest heaved beneath the blue hoodie as he tried to recover a normal breathing pattern, slowly regaining a sense of security as the rabbit's paw that was on his cheek began to wipe away the tears on his face.

"S'aright now, see?" Bunny spoke softly, a little louder than a whisper as the teen gradually began to calm down. Noticing that Jack's shaking wasn't as bad (though it was still there) and that his wrists had went limp in his paw long ago, Bunny cautiously reached behind him and grabbed the bandages that were strewn about the floor. He carefully raised one of Jack's wrists off of the brown jeans that looked to be through hell and back, and tenderly began to rewrap it in place. Jack, having regained a fairly normal breathing pattern by this point, watched curiously as his blue sleeve was pulled a little higher up his forearm and a pair of gray paws lightly wound the bandages around his wrist. Bunny seemed enthralled with his work as he finished the first one and began the second one. Seeing this, the spirit of fun felt the tension in his body release, and he visibly appeared to be more at ease.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack reluctantly asked, his throat sore after screaming.

Bunny shot him a quizzical look and glanced back at Jack's wrists that he'd just finished rewrapping, deeming it safe to remove the restraining foot he had on the boy and crouching beside him instead.

"Well, b'cause it'll get infected," Bunny stated matter-of-factly.

Jack squinted at him in confusion. "What?" he asked before his eyes briefly widened in realization and began to chuckle.

"What? No, no. Not my wrists, I mean… why, are you, uh… I-I dunno, talking to me, I guess?" Jack thought hard of how the words should come out of his mouth. "I mean," he shook his head. "I never really thought, uh… never really imagined that _you _of all spirits would want to talk, with… that-that's why you're here right? To talk?"

Bunny sighed and looked at Jack, not one of pity or anger, but one of sincerity when he spoke the words,

"To apologize, Frostbite."

"Wha- for what? You didn't even-" Jack questioned, before he brought his wrists in front of him and clenched his hands into fists. He scoffed. "I knew this would happen. I _knew _this would happen,"

"Jack-" Bunny reached to place a hand on Jack's shoulder, but he shrank back from the action; not out of fear, but out of rage.

"Don't!" he spoke firmly, swatting the paw away and using the same hand to run through his snow white hair. "Don't even try- I'm fine, I'm not-" he let out a sarcastic chuckle. "I don't need help, Bunny. I'm fine, so you can just take your apology and shove it up-"

"Then why would you do this?"

Jack was taken aback, glaring at Bunny before looking down at the bloodstained gauze that the Pooka was referring to. Bunny waited in vain for a response.

It was a long while before Jack answered the question.

"I don't know…I…" the winter spirit bit his lower lip fiercely, the all too familiar taste of blood flooding his mouth, before shooting Bunny a defiant stare. "Pshh, yeah, like _you _care. The only reason you're here is because the others made you."

Bunny's nose twitched with irritation. "You're wrong there, mate." Jack huffed, letting out a _sure _before he redirected his attention to what he had to say.

"Look Jack, I know that I might've said a few things, but that doesn't mean-"

Jack glowered. "Uh, _might've?_ You _might've _said a few things_, _is that what you just said? Newsflash, Cottontail!" The winter spirit leaned his face in closer to Bunny's, a scowl of pure disgust etched into his features, his ice blue eyes piercing through the sorrowful green ones centimeters from his.

"There's no _might've _about it. There's no," Jack made quote-on-quote gesticulations with his hands. "'You _might've_ mockedme, and hurtme, and made me feel like a _pest, _or better yet, _another bloody nusiance'. _Because I can be the first to tell you that you have." Unbeknownst to Jack, tears had begun to spill over the edges of his eyes, causing a very guilty-feeling Pooka's own eyes to water.

"I can be the first to tell you that I've wondered more than once about the possibility of a spirit dying a second time." Jack spat viciously, both anger and sadness dripping from every word as they slowly tore Bunny apart.

"And I can be the first to tell you that it hurts when you try to see it through but, no matter how hard you try, it never works. Do you even know how long I've been alone? 319 years, Bunny. 319-most of which I've spent thinking of how many different ways I could try to take away the pain, or could at least try to keep it away for a little longer, when in the end it doesn't matter, because there's always something in the way or always some- ugh! It's like being stuck in a damn cage! Trapped in this cage hanging over the edge of the world, and it-it's too small for me, and I can't move, and I can't breathe, and I'm scared to look down, so I jus-just sit there! I just sit there because if I make too loud a sound, or too quick a movement, they'll know, they'll all know, and-and I'll be alone again! I'll-"

Jack's face scrunched up as he crumpled into himself, bringing his hands to his face in an effort to hide the sniveling from the Pooka, who was now grief-stricken and speechless. After all this time, assuming that the boy was coping with all the involuntary drama that crept its way between the two, Bunny now saw that he couldn't have been more wrong. How could he – a guardian – have said such cruel things to the new spirit? He should've known that the words would remain; after all, they were all he had. True, they were degrading, and hurtful, and Jack probably came to believe every one of them to be true, but it was because they were spoken to him. _Him. _The only one who everyone seemed to walk through and pay no heed to because he wasn't there. But Bunny spoke to him; he was probably the first spirit to communicate with Jack, though the guardians knew of his existence long before their first encounter.

"_Bunny? I know you must have lot of eggs to paint, but have you heard? There is new elemental spirit roaming about. Jack Frost, I think is how they say… Tooth told me his teeth sparkle like the freshly fallen snow. Quite fitting for him."_

"_Winter elemental, huh?"_

"_Yes; of course, Man in Moon could've chosen older winter spirit, this one wasn't even eighteen when he vas chosen. I know not yet of his purpose here, but Man in Moon works in mysterious vays, eh?"_

"_Hmph, sounds like a troublemaker if ya ask me, mate. I thought you oughtta know, Winter and Spring don't coincide very well… Bet'cha he's the one who's been makin' all a those storms down in the States."_

"_Is that not what his name implies, Bunny?"_

"_During the spring. He's making all the snow storms during early spring, North. The gumby's tryin' to stay in one place. Bloody newbies… he better be outta there b'fore Easter comes around…"_

"_Vell then, go speak with him! You have much experience with the elemental balance, vhy not teach him as vell?"_

"_Heh, not on ya nelly. Get Tooth to do that, I'm sure she'll be glad ta get another peek at his choppers. B'sides, I still got all these eggs to finish up,"_

"_Psh! No matter how much you paint, Bunny, is still egg."_

But he never did. He never even bothered to go and show Jack how things worked; the thought never even crossed his mind! He just left the poor spirit to watch and observe, to figure it out on his own. On his own, with no one to talk to… for 319 years…

Without really thinking about it, Bunny outstretched his arms and pulled Jack into a tight hug. All the while, Jack's mind was reeling with confusion, questions that seemed to have no answers, eating away at him and pulling him deeper into this pit of despair, tearing him apart. He was a Guardian. That much he knew. But what exactly did that mean? That he would be off to the side just like the last 319 years he spent alone? Would he be called upon when it was absolutely necessary and just disregarded when he wasn't needed? The questions scared him, made him want to run as fast as he can, as far away as he could, made him want to panic…

But then there was Bunny. Bunny was here… hugging him? That didn't seem right. It most certainly didn't sound right in Jack's mind. After everything that's happened between them, all the names said to each other, all the snowballs and egg bombs tossed around, it didn't seem right. But to Jack, it most certainly felt right. Well, it felt better than crying into his own arms. He'd done enough of that to last a number of lifetimes by now.

And Bunny was there. Not there as he'd been all those times before, to taunt him, to get even with him… although Jack didn't really mind. He didn't mind if Bunny was there solely to beat the poor boy, just as long as he was there. So long as someone was there that could see him, that could acknowledge him at the very least… and this was none of those things. It was a hug. A hug was… a sign of friendship, right? A way of comforting someone, right?

It didn't matter at this point. It didn't matter what it meant or why he was doing it. Bunny was still _there_, and as long as he was _there, _Jack couldn't bring himself to refuse. Jack shakily wrapped his arms around the Pooka and rested his head against the soft furry shoulder as the thought sank in.

_So long as he's _here_… but why didn't he come sooner? Left me there all those years, except for the few times when he wanted to kill me? Why was I always alone in the end? Why?_

_He's here now, _a voice spoke in the back of his mind. _He's here now._

The thought wriggled its way into Jack's chest, which had now begun to heave once more when the relentless weeping returned for the fourth time that day. But this time, he had a shoulder to cry on. Jack sniffled and burrowed his head into the soft, warm fur, yearning for something that he'd been longing for the last 319 years. The warmth of another being, someone who could see him and acknowledge him. So long as they knew he was _there._

Jack let out a small whimper as the emotions he felt flooded out of him, and Bunny could feel his tears as the soaked into his fur. So he held him closer, nuzzling Jack's neck with his nose and whispering to him softly but loud enough for the both of them to hear the words.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm _so _sorry,"

* * *

"Sandy! Where've you been?" Tooth asked, wringing her hands as she shot another worried glance to the door. The sand man floated through the window and stood in front of Tooth and North with a smug grin on his face. Tooth didn't seem to notice at first, her wide violet eyes constantly looking back at Jack's bedroom door. "Do you know how long they've been in there? An hour. We said twenty minutes and they've been in there for an hour! I don't think I can wait much longer! I mean, you know how Bunny can get, North. He can get pretty violent, and it's almost happened before…" the jittery, restless fairy continued her rant to herself as she fluttered a little ways away with her mini fairies, and North looked to the smug-looking Sandman curiously.

"Sandy, I asked you to peek in through room's window and make sure no one was dead. Why are you looking at me like that? Is not funny,"

Tooth flew back over beside North when Sandy pulled a camera from behind his back. "A camera?! Why on earth-?" Before the jolly Russian could finish, a golden finger was put up to his lips as a sign to hush, and Sandy nodded with satisfaction as he handed a square photograph to them.

Whilst they marveled over the picture, Sandy smiled triumphantly and crossed his arms. It's been awhile since he's used his telepathic method of communication; he only saved it for emergencies, when children were scared and needed to be told to stay strong, lest the Boogeyman enter their dreams. But after hearing some of the shouting and stuff going on behind that door, Sandy just couldn't help himself. That, and he was very proud of himself when he saw the outcome of it, so he figured that he'd take Jack's idea from their previous journey, found an old camera on one of the workshops' shelves, and took a picture.

Tooth squealed in delight, plucking the image from North's hands and inspecting it curiously. It showed Bunnymund resting his back against the wall beside the door (there was a hole in the wall that Tooth couldn't help but wonder who was responsible for). His eyes were closed, one of his ears were standing on end as the other lazily drooped in on itself. But while this was in and of itself pretty cute in Tooth's mind, what made her squeal like a little girl was seeing what he was holding.

In his arms, much like a mother cradling her baby, Bunny cradled a sleeping Jack Frost, who was curled up in a ball on the Pooka's chest and appeared to be gripping the Pooka for dear life. It was as if should he loosen his grip the slightest bit, the rabbit would disappear. Whilst Tooth was a bit disheartened at the fact that Jack's teeth were not showing, having been blocked by his arm as it was raised up to hold on to the Pooka, she couldn't help but giggle madly at the image as she spun around in circles.

Not really _poor, helpless, wounded little Jack Frost, _but _downright adorable beyond anything Tooth has ever seen Jack Frost._

"North, can you believe this?!" Tooth exclaimed boisterously, earning a chiding scowl from her fairies as they brought their fingers up to their beaks and shushed her. "Sorry," she whispered before floating over to North, who took the picture back instantly.

"To be honest, no, not really…" he muttered, his face bearing the same surprise it did when the Man in the Moon said Jack Frost was a Guardian. "But here is proof, so it must be true." He shot a shocked look to the golden man who was still smiling like a fool.

"Good work, Sandy!" Sandy bowed deeply.

North chuckled to himself. "Now should Bunny try to say Easter is more important than Christmas, I will have some leverage!" he laughed, glancing at the photograph again before preparing to tuck it in his red jacket, only to have it taken by Tooth.

"Hey! That is my leverage!"

"Oh no, Nicholas. This is _mine._" She spoke fiercely but with a lighthearted tone, looking back on it with a twitterpated grin. It was replaced with one of surprise when Sandy took it from her and encased it with sand before placing it in the cloud of dreamsand he was now floating on.

"Sandy!" North laughed. "No fair! That is my leverage! Give it here!"

"What? No way! C'mon, Sandy, you owe me one!"  
The two chased after the sandman with grins on their faces, completely unaware of the shadow that crept from the ceiling and beneath the bedroom door.

* * *

_Author's Note: I am disappointed in how this chapter came out. Personally it could've used a lot more angst, and a few times I went back and read it and thought "it's like I'm writing a rape story" but aside from that…Damn. This is the first chapter I've ever written that actually made me cry. :'[ Weird, I don't usually react to my own FEELS. Anyway, R&R please, and just thought I'd give ya a heads up that I'm writing that new story now. For those of you who want to stick around for that one, it'll be called _Below Freezing _and will probably by posted a little after school gets out (which, for us, is June 7__th__). I haven't even posted it yet, but IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN MY UPCOMING FANFIC, HERE'S THE SUMMARY:_

"_Useless…" he sank deeper into the shadow cast by the Pooka, loneliness reclaiming him once more. "Pest…" for the first time in his immortal life, he despised the cold, "MiM's mistake…" because his words were colder than anything, freezing his heart, a painful meaningless throbbing in his chest. "Bloody Jack Frost…" – In the midst of readjusting to being a guardian, no longer just a stray winter spirit, Jack unintentionally creates a series of elemental anomalies, ex. causing blizzards in his sleep as he did in '68. And as if a residual sense of distrust between himself and the guardians (and a livid, aggressive-natured Easter Bunny) wasn't enough, the Man in the Moon draws a new spirit to their attention. The guardians are left with this: a seemingly misunderstood and stubborn Jack frost, a furious and equally stubborn Bunnymund, and an evil plot unfolding in the pitch black shadows…_

_Thanks again for reading, this should be uploaded a little later if you must know, and if you have any oneshot requests, ask and I'll see what I can do! I do what-ifs, lots of violence/language, and…ugh, hell with it, if you really wanted me too, I'm sure that I could give JackRabbit a try. :D baibai!_

…_heh, _rump's _a funny word…_

_969~696_


	5. Only Her

_Author's Note: So it's summer. And it's really boring without a bunch of hotheaded teachers nagging on me about not doing my homework. So I've been feeling really lonely lately (remind you of someone who can relate?) Therefore I write this fairly cute short oneshot thingy before continuing from where we left off last chapter (yeah, gee, this is _really _turning out to be a collection of oneshots B[)._

_Oh and uh the next chapter's gonna be fairly morbid, cuz I was playing DeadSpace2 before writing it : ) Ya gotta love mutated dead people._

* * *

Chapter Five: Only Her

Chapter Song: Falling Inside the Black (hey, how fitting!) by Skillet

Be careful.

That was the first thing he failed to do. The second was failing to check the ice to be sure it was thick enough for them to skate on. He did neither of these things. What kind of brother was he? Allowing himself to be led by the false feeling of comfort that nothing could possibly go wrong, how _pathetic_. Blindly giving in to that misleading sense of innocence that ultimately squandered the carefree lightheartedness of any situation. How could he?

"So what do you think of your new skates?" Jack asked nonchalantly as he helped his little sister put them on.

"I still can't believe that Santa got my letter!" she replied enthusiastically. "Guess you were right, Jack. He _is _real."

"Of course I'm right. I mean, when am I not right?" he joked, tying her last skate and standing up. She looked up at him doubtfully with beady brown eyes, a quizzical expression obscuring her gentle features.

"That time you swung from the tree branch on Easter and you said it would hold your weight."

Jack rubbed the back of his head as the painful memory returned. "Well I figured-"

"And that time you said that my flower wouldn't die if I put it in the shade."

"Okay, that was a mix up, I-"

"And then there was that one time when we were playing catch and you said we were too far away from the house for the ball to go through the window,"

Jack threw his arms up in defeat. "Alright, I give! I get it! Not _everything _I say is right,"

The young girl carefully stood up on two wobbly feet and looked to the house. She smiled.

"But you were right about the designs in the frost, Jack." he looked as well, analyzing the carefully etched patterns and images from a distance. It took him all night to accomplish, using only a small knife and one of his mother's sewing needles, his steady-working hand adding as much fine detail as he could without scraping off to much of the frosts original beautiful design.

His sister pulled him back into reality as she spoke in his direction.

"They're beautiful. You should do them every year!"

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He knelt down and reached for his own skates. "Alright, sounds like a plan. Maybe next year, I'll teach you how to do it too, so you can help me. But this year, I'm teaching you skating. So just stay put and wait for me to get these on."

_That is, _Jack thought to himself, still crouched over the skates and mentally ridiculing their size as he inspected them. _If they'll fit me. These things look too small to even-_

The unmistakable sound of ice cracking drew his attention, and Jack immediately flung his skates off to the side and glanced up at his sister so fast his head hurt.

Jack's eyes widened in horror. She didn't stay put; she'd wandered towards the center of the ice. Jack scolded himself. He didn't even check to see if the ice was thick enough prior to coming outside. How stupid of him. How _stupid _of him!

The ice was too thin, cracking beneath her quivering legs as she balanced herself with outstretched arms. She looked down and watched as the cracks rapidly spread below her, a fear-stricken look hungrily consuming her babylike face. A look that sickened Jack and made his stomach churn with unease. He hated seeing his sister so afraid. He had to intervene.

"It's okay! It's okay, just…" he softly beckoned, his brotherly instincts taking over before he had a chance to come up with a plan. "Look at me."

It was an impulsive quality Jack had yet to understand himself, assuming it was only natural, the rush of the situation that clouded everything around him except for one thing and one thing only.

Protect her.

"Jack," she whimpered with a shaky voice, looking back and forth between her brother and the cracking ice underneath her. "I'm scared,"

It drove him insane, seeing her standing right in front of him in such a state of fear and not being able to do anything but stand there with her.

"I-I know," She wasn't scared. She was terrified; as was he. But not scared for his own safety. Only for hers. He attempted to take a step closer. The ice cracked beneath his foot and he winced, withdrawing his step. He hadn't checked the ice. How _stupid _of him! He had to do something before she ended up going under.

"Bu-but you're gonna be alright. You're _not _gonna fall in,"

And Jack meant it, despite his shaking hands and his mind reeling with questions. He drowned the panicky voices in his mind out, he only words making sense as of right now was _Protect her. Get her off the ice. Keep her safe. _Not any thoughts like _If it can barely hold her, I'm as good as dead. _Only her.

"Uh… we-we're gonna have a little fun instead!" he tried to reassure her with a quirky grin and a lighthearted tone. She didn't seem at all convinced, her words sounding almost like a sob.

"No, we're not!"

"Would I trick you?"

"Yes, you _always _play tricks!"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at this comment.

"Well, not-not this time. I _promise. _You're gonna be… you're gonna be fine."

Again, Jack meant this. She would be just fine, even if it meant that he couldn't be. Only her.

Seeing that these words helped to calm her down immensely, Jack straightened up confidently, trying to show her that there was really nothing to be afraid of while being weary of the fragile ice beneath them.

"You wanna play a game? We're gonna play hopscotch, like we play every day. Look, i-it's as easy as one," he took a step towards the direction of his shepherds crook, the ice producing a sickening popping, cracking sound that sent chills down Jack's spine. _I'm gonna fall in. _For a split second, his face was contorted with fear. _If I'm afraid, she'll be afraid, _he thought, quickly pretending he was struggling to balance on his one foot. Her soft laugh urged him on. "Two… three!" he knelt back down on the thicker ice, slyly reaching for his crook as he spoke.

"Alright, now it's your turn."

She looked at him fearfully, and reluctantly took a step forward.

"One…" Jack counted aloud. The ice cracked again beneath her feet, this time more rapidly. She gasped in shock and looked up to her brother with wide eyes.

"That's it, two…" she took another small step, the ice beneath her just about to give in.

"Three!" his hushed voice exclaimed and he shot out his crook, catching his sisters waist and giving it a firm tug. They switched places, as she was spent sprawling against the thick ice and Jack slipped a little ways onto where she was jus standing. The young girl slowly stood up and smiled at him thankfully.

Immediately, Jack relaxed. He stood up and smiled back. Nothing else in the world mattered right now. _She was safe. _And that's all Jack cared about. As he reassuringly smiled to his younger sister with a chuckle, he looked her in the eye. They no longer contained the fear that they once held moments ago. That alone lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. _She was safe._

Jack was about to break the silence with a witty comment when the ice beneath him gave way. "Whoa-!" he started, looking longingly at his sister just as he fell through.

"Jack!" she cried, stretching her arm out as the waters below swallowed him up.

The cold water enveloped him, paralyzing his body as it entered his agape mouth and filled his lungs. The sting of the cold immobilized him, and as the numbness unwillingly overtook his limbs, his mind wandered aimlessly. Thoughts such as _I'm dying _and _Oh my god this is the end _were not to be found.

Jacks final thoughts as he submissively admitted that he was dead were these.

_Better me than her. She's safe. _Not _I can't breath and can't move. _As the darkness enclosed him, he only thought, _Please let her be off the ice. _Only _Protect the child._

Only _her._

* * *

His brown eyes closed. Just as his conscious was about to permanently depart his floating corpse and succumb to the deep recessions of death, a pair of hazy brown eyes saw it between two weakly closed eyelids.

It was moonlight. It was bright, glowing, moonlight peering at him from beneath the ice. And as the moonlight chased the darkness away, the feeling of cold returned to him, but in an entirely different form as it crept up his fingertips. A deep and ethereal voice spoke to him five words that immediately gave him the energy to reawaken from his unwilling slumber. And Jack stirred.

_Your name is Jack Frost._

His bright blue eyes burst open.

* * *

_Author's Note: So um. Yeah. Uh…yeah! :D_

_969~696_


	6. Please Let Me Disappear (Trial)

_Author's Note: lol I hope this confuses you. I was gonna post the first chapter to this but I just wanted to introduce this for now and see just how much of a reaction I can get from you through this. If you hate me forever, I don't blame you : ) I hate myself too so IDGAF._

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*WARNING!: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of dead people. I'm beginning to question as to whether or not this should be under M, so that alone should tell you how bad this is. Contains blood, car crashes, remorse, angst, excessively graphic descriptions, melting flesh, morbidity… you get the point. I'm a sick, sick person. Whaddayawantfromme

Jack wanted to disappear.

He didn't want to move, did want to breathe, didn't want to feel. Despite North's instruction to rest and not shift around too much, Jack sat up. He ran a bandaged hand through his white hair, traces of dried blood still present in some places. His many wounds began to ache in discomfort, but he disregarded them and pulled his knobby knees up to his chest. He aggressively buried his head in his arms and silently sobbed. As far as he was concerned, he deserved this cuts, bruises, stitches. He deserved to endure every waking moment of pain he'd ever experienced since he came up from the ice ten times over, after what he'd done. Or rather, what he'd failed to do.

Jack's breath quickened and his heart beat wildly against his aching chest.

He was right there. He was _right there, _and he couldn't move fast enough! By the time he reached the two cars to stop them, they'd already collided, blocking the rest of the street as a large van rammed into him and shoved him into the mess. And another. And another, until a total of nine cars were among the wreckage, the vehicle that Jamie was in being one of them. When the spirit finally managed to pry himself from the destroyed parts, his first destination was said vehicle. His first priority was not the severe wounds he'd acquired and the slightly charred staff still poking out of the debris. It was Jamie. The car door was jammed, so he impatiently slammed his fist through the glass and wriggled his way through the jagged opening.

"Jack? Ya feelin' alright?" Bunnymund softly questioned, quietly closing the door behind him and nearing the grieving winter sprite.

Jack wanted to disappear. He remembered every detail. He remembered how the cuts strung as he pulled himself through the window, and he remembered the sickening sense of unease he felt after scanning the seats. He remembered first looking to the driver seat, seeing that his mother was unconscious, with a large gaping cut across her forehead, but still alive and breathing nonetheless.

"Look, Frostbite, I know ya blame yourself for this," Bunny beckoned, crouching beside the bed occupied by the balled up boy. "Butcha can't blame yourself, mate. Accidents happen…"

Jack wanted to disappear. He remembered it all too clearly. He remembered looking over to the passenger seat, and upon noticing its vacancy, looked to the battered back end of the car. A small framed child occupied the far right seat.

The entire backside of the car was ablaze.

"There's some things ya just cant stop from happening,"

He remembered it clearly. It was Jamie, that much he could gather from the remnants. But he could only tell by the hat he wore on his head with was now burning with the rest of him. His hands shriveled, gnarled, limply resting on his lap as the fire licked at him - it. Licked at _it._ The corpse. Its legs, crushed by the debris that crashed through the roof in the collision. Its eyes - his; _His _eyes, for these were Jamie's - were wide open, brown, lifeless orbs staring into Jack's terrified ones. His face, mutilated, blood running down the blackening cooking skin, mouth agape with surprise.

"Jack?"

_The failure, _he added onto Bunny's attempt to get his attention. Jack the failure, the one who was there - _right there - _and watched. The image of Jamie's face was burned into his mind, plaguing his every thought, glued to the back of his eyelids. His face, mutilated, unrecognizable, sickening, blackening as the fire consumed him mercilessly.

"Jack? Can ya hear me?"

His face, _mutilated. _Jack's breath became increasingly rushed and he gripped his legs so hard he drew blood. _Mutilated. _Something hopped up beside him and Jack felt strong, furry arms embrace him, cradling him affectionately. "It's gonna be alright, Jack." The guardian of fun did not hug back. Jack continued to sob into his blue arms, murmuring incoherent and meaningless words and apologies as the images returned, as the sweltering unbearable heat of the fire roasted him, as the smell of cooking flesh wafted into his nostrils.

"It's not your fault Jack."

His face. _Mutilated. _The winter spirit lashed out.

Jack wanted to disappear.

~ROTG~

_Author's Note: Dear haters. Don't even waste your time. I warned you. :D Hateful reviews will be ignored, because I don't really care about your insecurities. But hey, hugs and even "that was sick" reviews are appreciated! If I see that people want to know what happened (or if enough people don't like it, because I'll do it just to mess with you guys) I'll continue this little oneshot what if thingy. Please at least review without bad language towards me : ) _

_969~696_


	7. Opposite Day

_Author's Note: lol because there's been a lot of gruesome and depressing content on here, so I'm gonna have a go at writing something happy and/or humorous for you peeps. Happy thoughts. Thank you to those who have reviewed (either telling me just how sick last chapter was, or supporting/ leaving an idea) And, um… I would say that this is more of a… hmm… well technically, it's not, but… uh ,never mind : ) (hides in closet and locks door lol)I will say that if any of my chapters will get a bit more macabre, to say the least, I'll probably make an "It Snows When It's Dark Out Too" M Version, containing only the excessively graphic and violent bits. In fact I'll probably put the whole 'Please Let Me Disappear' storyline in said folder. I'll leave a note on this next chapter telling you if it's up. : )_

_RATED T FOR simply existing in this oneshot collection (hey, nothing excessively sadistic or depressing for once! Yay!)_

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It was quiet the day it happened.

Jack was summoning small groups of flurries and randomly dispersing them amongst Burgess out of sheer boredom. He was just so _bored _that day. Had Jamie not been in school, the winter spirit would've been occupied in a wicked snowball fight right about now, or maybe showing Jamie how he made Frosty the Snowman come to life by putting some of his magic in his top hat. Had the Guardians not been so busy, he probably would've went and bothered them, freezing elves, filling up the warren with snow, you know, something mischievous and completely uncalled for. But seeing that, yes, Jamie was still enduring mathematics class, and the Guardians were too engrossed with their duties to pay him any attention, Jack was left here. Dying of boredom. Without anything to do until his handful of believers were released from their unwilling prison of headaches and spitballs.

At times like this he'd balance on his staff, still as stone, and simply think, about a number of things. If it helped to keep him from going insane in the past 319 years, it would easily keep him busy until the school got out. He thought about miscellaneous things, none of which were relevant or had to do with past thoughts or reoccurrences in any way; his mind tended to wander like this. He thought about what Pitch was doing, how he might've felt when Jack rebuffed his offer of apprenticeship. He pondered about how Sandy sometimes, unbeknownst to himself of course, accidentally projected his own thoughts into peoples dreams. Jack had seen it himself one night when he flew over Burgess, and he had to say, it was pretty funny in his mind. He chuckled at what the dreamer must've been thinking when he dreamt of how angry he was to spot stray black horses made of sand jumping across the rooftops. Jack thought about how Bunny reminded him of that one Australian croc hunger that Jamie loved to watch, solely because of his accent, as childish as it sounded. Hmm… Bunny…

If you were to ask Jack what he thought of Bunny, odds are he'd probably say what he firmly believed to be true: He was a grumpy, slightly egomaniacal kangaroo whose obsession with eggs and flowers alone was enough to make Jack want to make fun of him, to make him want to poke the bear; except in this case, it would be more like poke the _pooka. _Jack honestly thought that Bunny could be compassionate and a little less pushy without putting too much effort, but deliberately chose not to be, just so he could antagonize the newest Guardian. Well it made sense in his mind, at least.

Now, this is what Jack would say if you asked him what he thought of the overgrown rabbit. If you were to ask him what he _felt _toward him, he most likely wouldn't respond. The question wouldn't remain unanswered, just unable to be expressed through words. Jack couldn't say. He stuck his tongue out as he balanced on his staff, a habit that came with thinking hard on something that he really didn't know whether he should be thinking about or not. That kangaroo had said some nasty things to him in the past, and almost every spirit knew of their (albeit unofficial) sibling-like rivalry. So was that what they were? Siblings? Rivals? Frenemies? He remembered that apologetic, thankful look that Bunny shot him after Jamie explained how Jack rekindled his belief. So did that make them friends? Acquaintances? Jack recalled what Bunny remarked after becoming a Guardian, _"That's m'boy!" _Was it a fatherly, frenemy, sibling relationship? Or was it just a Pooka thing?

This was confusing.

"Jack!" _Speak of the devil, _the winter spirit thought, nimbly hopping off his staff and turning around to face the Pooka whilst he hopped out of his tunnel. Jack nonchalantly leaned against his shepherds crook and shot Bunny a faux enthused grin.

"Bunny!" he exclaimed with a lighthearted tone, unbeknownst that the guardian was rapidly nearing him, bearing an eager and slightly mischievous look. "Don't usually see you around these parts, Cottontail. Heh, that is, unless No-" _rth's inviting me over again, _was what Jack was going to say as a way to joke about North's usual method of getting him to the Pole. But he found that he couldn't complete his sentence, for before he could finish it, Bunny had hopped in front of him and pressed his lips against Jack's own. For a moment, Jack had no idea what was going on. And then the next moment, the realization struck him like a slap across the face.

Jack had never been kissed before. In fact, he'd never expected to be kissed, much less by someone who might or might not have hated him. His limps were frigid and paralyzed in shock as Bunny's arms snaked around his waist. For a second, the only words that would go through his head were. _Um. What. _For a second, Jack was tempted to push him away and freeze his feet to the ground. But seeing that he was technically being held in place, he couldn't very well carry on with this plan. Not really knowing what else to do, Jack… hoped he was kissing back the right way, allowing his eyes to close and his limbs to relax a little more. He had to say, it was an interesting - even slightly enjoyable - experience. Albeit slightly awkward and totally out of the blue, it wasn't half bad.

When Bunny broke the kiss, Jack looked up at him with an expression that bore both awe and curiosity. "Bunny?" he asked with a hushed whisper, allowing Bunny's soft forehead to rest against his own.

_Is that what we are? Friends who kiss? Lovers?_

These thoughts meandered into the forgetful recessions of his mind as Bunny spoke to him.

"Jack…" he sounded as if he were going to say something. He pulled back a little to shoot him an amused and intrigued look. "Y-yeah?" The winter sprite listened, hoping for an explanation of the sudden and uncharacteristic rashness that overtook him, only to receive a smug smirk.

"It's Opposite Day."

Jack's jaw dropped. His expression morphed into one of shock and, surprisingly, playfulness.

Bunny quickly released his affectionate hold with a gut bursting laughter and hopped down a new formed tunnel, Jack pursuing him just as quickly with a look of playful frisky determination scrawled upon his face. And with that, a chase of epic proportions sparked a fire that would last all eternity.

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_Author's Note: Well, that's Bunny for you. XD In my defense, technically this doesn't contain JackRabbit, seeing that it was, in fact, opposite day. There's two sides you could possibly pick: one, Bunny was just messing with him to express what he (really didn't) think for him on normal days, which consisted of the complete opposite of affection and care… but come on, we know Bunny could be really mean sometimes, but I'm pretty darn sure he does care about Jack. And POV number two: He could've really meant his actions but used the whole "It's Opposite Day" thing to cover it up. I can see Bunny doing both of these things. But hey, ya never know, ya know?_

_And I might be writing a JackRabbit story in the near future. I'll be wrapping up my other rotg fanfic "Frostrauma" pretty soon, so just bear with me, k?_

_~969~696~_


	8. Jack's Tree, Pt 1

_Author's Note: Before I carry on with my Frostrauma story and the ISWIDOT M version, I'm gonna wrap up (maybe B[ ) what happened after Bunny apologizes. And yes, for those of you who feel slightly shortchanged in terms of cuddling the last Repercussions chapter, this will make up for it… before abruptly turning and becoming an angst-ridden storyline once again :D. Yup. More depression in this chapter. So much, in fact, that this will probably be a 2+ parter. Enjoy… Well try to at least. :3_

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~Bunnymund, Jack Frost, and Pitch Black~ Jack's Tree, Pt. 1

Chapter Song: Say (All I Need) by One Republic

*BRIEF WARNING! Self harm and a bit of morbid violence in this chapter!

It was the year 1693, or so the strangers said as they waltzed through Jack along the dirt path of the village. Usually, the invisible boy would've maneuvered around them, seeing that the strange sensation of being walked through sent shivers down his spine. Even the idea of being invisible made him want to curl up into a ball and disappear. But in the midst of his thinking, he simply stared ahead blankly and allowed the townspeople to make their way through him. The feeling of numbness slowly consumed him. Unbeknownst to Jack, it would be a feeling that he would have to endure, and would never grow used to over the years, the feeling of loneliness, helplessness, hopelessness…

Not knowing what else to do or where else to go, he sullenly meandered around the lake he'd come up from just yesterday, gripping his staff and wondering if it too would fall through his hands if he dare let go. He began to grow tired, not only of trying to question the small handful of townspeople that gathered to stare at the lake with a look of loss and sorrow (something that had continued to happen for the next fifty years or so, but what for, Jack never understood), but also tired of walking around aimlessly. He was tempted to go stand on the tin layer of ice upon the lake to see if he could fall through again and maybe leave this place, when something caught onto his pants and tripped him.

He'd quite literally stumbled upon a tree.

It was a fairly tall tree with a thick base and gnarled roots gripping the ground, no doubt tickled by the dying grass surrounding it as it gripped the dirt mercilessly. Out of its many branches, only one stood out to him, one about four or five feet from the ground, one that looked strong enough to hold up an invisible boy.

After unintentionally frosting the dead grass with his pale toes, Jack was gently lifted by the wind and perched onto said branch, the one that seemed to be there just for him. It was here where he spent much of his time before becoming a guardian.

After the following day passed, another day of desperately trying to communicate with someone in the village, Jack took it upon himself to keep track of how many days he'd go without someone to talk to. He'd taken a small knife left outside by one of the villagers and dug a long, visible line into the trees soft bark. Day one of being alone. On that night, he slept on his tree; the day after his rebirthing from beneath the ice a confusing and tiring one to say the least.

Over the next few weeks, Jack found out that the wind was willing to take him anywhere, so he traveled to keep busy, instinctively stopping by barren and dead areas that looked to be the end of autumn to bring a snow day and a few snowball fights to the children. But, no matter where he traveled, he always came back to make a mark on his tree when the sun went down in his village.

As he traveled, he'd come to find that there were many differences between himself and the villagers. The first being that they grew tired regularly, following the sun's suit and sleeping whenever night arrived. Jack, however, grew tired every few _weeks, _often sleeping intermittently during the summer season beneath the cool shade of his tree. The people in this village were constantly hungry it seemed, eating two to three times a day to keep the hunger at bay. Jack had never experienced hunger; well, a hunger for food at least. As far as he was concerned, he was unrightfully starved of acknowledgement and purpose. Still, he traveled around the world, learning new customs, broadening his language, and always returning to cut the tree.

However, as the weeks, passed, the tree began to fill up with scores, no longer room on the uppermost part of the tree for any more marks. So after neatly labeling that section as DAYS with his knife, he decided (all the while with a disheartened, overwhelming sense of sadness) that he would go by YEARS on the lowermost part of the tree, the untouched bark beneath the branch earning a tally for every year that passed.

Even then, he ran out of room around the 150 mark. But by this time, Jack had deemed keeping track utterly useless, eventually scrawling miscellaneous thoughts over the tallies, all the while secretly recalling how many years it's been.

During his 319 years of unwilling solitude, the tree was his home. When Jack had followed up after the autumn season and brought snow, he'd sleep on his branch until eventually woken by nightmares. Whenever it rained, or whenever the sun's rays grew a little too harsh for his liking, he was sheltered by the trees leaves. After a long day of attempting to get people to notice him, to notice his handiwork with the frost at the very least, he'd sulk beneath the tree. After a strung-out winter season, the tree was his first destination, regardless of the season. It was his sanctuary. It was home. Sometimes, when he'd been through an ordeal, he'd sit under it just to think, and nothing more. Just to think, think about why the moon never talked back, why he was pretty much avoided by the rest of the spirit world…

He'd sit under the tree thinking of ways to hurt himself, too. Using his knife, he'd etch words into his skin only to find that they'd be gone the nest day. He'd sit upon his branch, aggressively slicing, sawing, _stabbing _at his wrists; his blood would go unnoticed to the children that passed by as the red rain fell to the ground below, flooding the frostbitten grass with a dark crimson. His screaming and bawling fell upon deaf ears. That, or they simply never existed.

Often on this tree, the one that he'd come to call his own, he would talk to the full moon, asking all of these questions - all of these questions that he'd been asking since the beginning! - before finally collapsing into himself when he'd receive no response. Here, he'd badmouthed a certain Guardian of Hope after an unfortunate run-in the day earlier. Whilst he spoke however, Jack cautiously scanned his surroundings and glanced behind him fearfully every now and then. He was fearful. He was deathly afraid that the bunny would find him and grow angry at his words, would attack him and already tell him what he knew was true, would fight him, would pin him up against the wall so he couldn't breathe…

All in all, the tree was his home. He'd fled to it - or just fled to Burgess in general - when he'd felt threatened, like an endangered animal who played the pray fled to their dens or nests to escape the vicious predators after him. This was why Jack left the pole and went straight to Burgess in the first place, not only to check on Jamie and Sophie (who were sleeping since it was night here) but also to seek out the trees protection.

Jack was trembling, he was well aware of this. He was fearful as to what the Guardians would do when they came and found him here. They knew where to look by now, Jack had assumed, and he knew all too well that after everything that happened, he wasn't supposed to leave the pole. He would scare them by doing so. They would be terrified of his whereabouts and his wellbeing after coming to learn of his little _self-harming_ problem. But that didn't matter right now. The consequences of his actions didn't matter to him right now. He just wanted the tree. He just wanted to be near that tree, _his _tree.

He thought hard about this, taking the knife from its hiding spot in the tree and repositioning himself on the branch. He was most anxious about Bunny's reaction, most of all. He already knew that Tooth (and Baby Tooth, nevertheless) would bombard him with hugs and kisses and that motherly "Don't you ever do that again!" Warning. Sandy would shoot him that disappointed/worried look of his, accompanied with the wave of what Jack nicknamed his "no-no" finger and compensating with a reassuring smile to tell him that everything will turn out all right in the end. North would no doubt be infuriated with the winter spirit's decision, gushing a long and irrelevant dead-serious speech about how his safety mattered and all that. Then he'd follow up with a hug and that weird kiss-on-the-cheek thingy, which Jack assumed must have been a Russian thing.

But what Bunny would do, Jack couldn't say. After what happened that night, he just couldn't say. Would he be like Tooth, embracing him for dear life and giving him a billion reasons why he shouldn't leave? No, he knew Bunny better than that… at least, he thought he did. He wouldn't show his weakness for him like that so easily, so broadly. Something told him that he wouldn't be like Sandy at all. He definitely have something to say to him. So would he be like North then? No, Bunny never struck Jack as the fatherly type, much less one to be saying words of wisdom. Then again, he was finding himself pleasantly surprised with what the Pooka's done so far. He deemed him unpredictable. Would he really just bluntly expel his rage and frustration on him though, after everything that went down the previous night?

With this, Jack thought about all of the emotional turmoil that his careless cutting had put the Guardians through. All the guilt and trouble he caused…

_Pitch was right all along, _Jack thought to himself as his eyes rapidly began to water. He pulled back his sleeve and indecisively picked at the fraying bandages with the tip of his knife.

"But it won't work, will it, Jack?" a voice emitted from the shadows.

* * *

It was an unrealistic turn of events that led up to this equally unrealistic outcome. First of all, Bunny didn't expect Jack to be so aggressively natured. He most certainly didn't envision him lashing out like that, violently hitting him with a ferocious and fearful look. This, too, was something that had caught the Pooka off guard. He hadn't the slightest idea that Jack was _afraid _of him. He hadn't the slightest idea that Jack's attitude towards him was an overwhelming blend of blurry emotions; hate fore taunting his invisibility, fear for going at him in '68, thankfulness for even acknowledging his existence. And after this, there was no saying how Jack would feel towards him. After all this time feeling scared and angry, how would he cope with the sudden change, the feeling of being comforted and accepted?

No doubt the new guardian was confused, Bunny admitted silently to himself that he would be, too. Confused and scared. Because, unfortunately, confusion and fear met hand in hand. Bunny didn't think he could stand to see Jack in such a fearful, wrecked state. Never again would this poor boy be left alone for that long a time with no one to turn to but himself.

As the thoughts repeated themselves like a mantra of regret in his mind, he held Jack tighter, rubbing his nose lovingly into Jack's pale cheek and purring softly. Jack had been alone and suffering all those years, flooded with questions that he could never ask because his only response was ever silence, hiding behind a mask of fun as to conceal tearstains that he could never wipe away because it was one of the two ways that helped him feel better…

Bunny shuddered, tears spilling over when he clenched his eyes tightly shut.

How selfish, how _wrong _of him to just assume that after being made a guardian, the boys troubled would gradually disappear. This didn't happen at all; if anything, they intensified, to the extent that the winter spirit wanted to try to rid of himself. He just wanted to be away from it all…

Bunny's thoughts meandered in this melancholy field as he held Jack close. The Guardian of Fun had fallen asleep long ago, after being rocked and caressed in an effort to get him to stop crying. Actually, Jack hadn't been crying for as long as Bunny expected him to. But when he saw the boy start to cry the first time, it broke the Pooka's heart enough to make him follow his guardian instincts and wrap his arms around him, wiping the tears from his eyes and stroking his hair. It also broke his heart when Jack took such a long time to hug back, probably questioning what it meant coming from him of what exactly it was supposed to do. After all, he'd received only two hugs in the past 319, only one of which he'd tried to return the favor as decently as he could (though Jamie didn't mind). When he finally did hug back, though, he clung to him as he were expecting a tornado to come. He'd limply rested his head on Bunny's shoulder, and continued weeping. All the while, Bunny was there telling him that it would be okay, refusing to let up on the hug and softly cooing him. It remarkably calmed him down; it was a matter of minutes until his unbearable bawling had turned into whimpering sniffles, which eventually become nothing more but shaky and uneven breaths. There were a few times where Jack cried to him, "I'm sorry; God, I'm _so _sorry," only to be silenced with a sonorous purr and a firm nuzzle to the cheek. "Ya ain't got nothing' at be sorry for, ya gumby, s'alright."

"But I-I hit you, Bunny, I-"

"Shh, 's okay, Frostbite. I'm a masta of Tai Chi, ya think I ain't got what it takes to take a few throws? B'sides, if anybody should be apologizin' it should be me."

"But… But you didn't do anything."

"That's exactly it," Bunny tensed. "I didn't do anything, just left ya there all alone… shh, just go at sleep, Jack."

"…Will you… will you be here when I wake up, Bunny?"

Bunny's heart dropped into his stomach at the question, and he nuzzled Jack's damp face. "Yeah, mate. Yeah I will, I promise."

This was why Bunny felt so bad when he woke up and found that Jack was nowhere to be found. Both him and his staff were gone.

And a sickening feeling of dread began to consume him.

* * *

"But it won't work, will it Jack?" Pitch stated a with a sick grin. It all came together in the back of his mind. He was going to bribe the boy in the tree, being one with the shadows and keeping his words (and the boy) quarantined within the shadowy boundary surrounding him.

After seeing that Jack had up and fled the pole, Pitch followed him, knowing all to well where the boy would go and what he planned to do.

He'd seen the sleeping spirit in the rabbit's arms, and although he considered the sight a _weak and pathetic display, _it seemed to have solved his problem quite nicely. He'd knelt down beside Jack, careful not to wake either of them, and placed a hand on his forehead. He smiled to himself after sensing that the depression had greatly depleted, scoffing silently after seeing that it was replace with _hope. _Again, Pitch grimaced at the fact that Jack would forgive the rabbit so easily. But it wasn't that hard to believe, seeing that Jack would suck up to just about anyone who acknowledged him, anyone who paid attention to him… maybe after this, Pitch's offer for apprenticeship wouldn't be denied. But he'd have to wait for the proper moment, just as he did before; when Jack was lost enough to be led astray with a few meaningless words, but not lost enough to want to give up entirely. Therefore, the Nightmare King would just have to make the best out of it. Pitch digressed, slinking into the shadows as the boy began to stir. Without a second thought, Jack grabbed his staff and fled out the window. Pitch really couldn't blame him, though. He' want his tree to know about all of what happened, he was always drawn back to that one tree. The tree never threatened him or taunted him, and it was always there, always knew he was there.

Pitch sensed the rabbit beginning to stir as well, probably due to the lack of Jack in his arms, so Pitch followed the boy hastily. He wasn't in the mood to deal with a drowsy rodent right now. He followed Jack discreetly, and although the winter spirits depression had been greatly reduced, it wasn't completely gone. It would never leave, it seemed. It would fester, a never ending cycle, sending him spiraling in and out of disarray of emotions…

The Bunny was too late. 319 years too late.

When Pitch had seen the boy contemplating with the knife at his wrists, he _had _to intervene. Not because he cared, mind you; never would he allow himself to sink so low as to care for Jack again. That is, unless he wanted to redeem himself and accept the offer he was about to put up for grabs. Then he would think about it. He intervened because he couldn't risk losing all the progress and efforts he made to keep him alive.

That, and Jack's fear was the best. No shaking, screaming child's fear could ever compare to his. And if they were apprentices, it would make it all too easy to acquire it.

"In the end, it never works . Your persistence is tantamount to insolence, Jack." the voice echoed. Jack knew who it belonged to, but he simply bit his bottom lip as the words echoed in his mind.

"It may seem like a way out Jack. But the truth is, _there is no way out. _So instead of fighting it, you let it fester? You let it build up inside of you and eat away at you, bit by bit, until you are nothing? How selfish, how _weak…_are you not stronger?"

Jack clenched his eyes shut, tears spilling over the edges and trailing down his cheeks before he quickly and swiftly wiped them away.

"You could be stronger, Jack." the voice whispered. "You don't have to be like this… I can help you. It may seem an unwise decision, but what other choice to you have? You can stay like this, alone and hurting, wishing you would just disappear already… or you could _join me._"

* * *

_So this'll probably be a four parter. Why am I not surprised? Depending on how much positive feedback this chapter gets, I'll probably just postpone it till later and work on the M version stuff. Cuz that's always _fun. _: ) That being said, if you really want the next chapters, review! :D Thanks for reading!_

_969~696_


	9. Cold

_Author's Note: Cuz I'm really sad :,( That, and Jack needs more misery._

* * *

Chapter Title: Cold

Chapter Song: So I Thought, by Flyleaf (even though this chapter has virtually nothing to do with the song B[ it's pretty. Whaddayawantfromme.)

A heavy sigh filled the frigid night air as the winter sprite waltzed along one of the rooftops. He was weakly dragging his shepherds crook along behind him and freezing the tiles of the roof, tired bloodshot eyes glowering at his handiwork sullenly. His bare, pale feet were achy and sore, the enchanting chill that he cast upon the air causing him to shiver. His frail skinny legs had begun to quiver, straining with effort to keep him standing up much less walking around. He was chewing his lower lip aggressively, the familiar metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as the bitten flesh throbbed. One of his bony hands were jammed in his pocket, whilst the other limply gripped his crook at his side. His sleeves were pulled up to his elbow, revealing a number of bruises and scrapes and self-inflicted injuries. The spirit's head was drooped forward, his white hair concealing his eyes and the uppermost part of his face. His bright red cheeks contrasted the dead gray shade of his skin. The bright red blood slowly meandering down his palms and dripping off his fingertips from his wrists stood out on his pale cold arms. The blood that found its way to the center of his palm slowly began to freeze as he unknowingly frosted over it. While blood ran down his arms, frozen streams of tears ran down his cheeks.

The soft sound of his sobbing couldn't be made out by the sound of the frantic, busy traffic below him. His heaving chest couldn't be seen under his blue hoodie, rapidly rising and falling as he sniffled. His neck strained as he allowed his head to limply dangle from his shoulders. Just beneath where his hair covered his eyes, frost had already begun to accumulate over his skin, creating a thin layer of cold over the already frozen over tearstains. His body did this when it felt threatened or weak.

But it was _cold._

The spirit hated the aching sensation brought on by the ice, and hated the numbness that came after it even more so. However, maybe this was best. You couldn't feel pain if you were numb. On the outside, that is.

He groaned, legs finally buckling under his weight and giving in. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, and released a heart-wrenching sob.

_Jack Frost. _

What a joke.

What a sick, cruel joke. He wasn't like this before; of course, Jack didn't know this for sure, seeing that he couldn't remember anything prior to waking up beneath the ice. But he felt it, something told him that he wasn't always _cold _and _weak _and _invisible. _No, he was like them: the normal people who strolled across the sidewalk on their way homes after a long day of work. The normal people who didn't accidentally freeze themselves or the things around them when they felt alone or disheartened. The normal people who hugged their friends and relatives, and could be _hugged back. _Their hands didn't go right through each other upon contact, and if they wanted to, they could cut themselves, and they were capable of _bleeding to death._

Not Jack, though. No, he could spend all day slicing the skin on his wrists, and all he got in return was pain and scars. There was no escape for him. He was trapped in a cage. No, he was stuck. He was stuck here, not really living, but not really dead either. In the middle, it seemed. Well, the middle was a horrible place to be. Was this a punishment? Was it a nightmare? Was there something he had to do, something he had to say?

He'd done everything in his power, said to the Moon everything that was on his mind and anything he could think of. He'd spend weeks at a time playing with the children, bringing snow days, instigating snowball fights. He'd said aloud to the Moon his greatest fears, his wishes, his hopes, his dreams, his longing for a memory, his yearning for an answer to any of his questions. He'd reasoned, threatened, _pleaded _to MiM for a reason, a threat, an answer. He pleaded for anything to be spoken to him. _Anything at all._

It had gotten him nowhere. And bit by bit, day after day of being ignored and being too cold to bear, everything started to collapse within him. His fears got the best of him, lulling him to sleep only to wake him up gasping for air in a cold sweat. His wonder and wishes simply faded away, replaced with a sickening dread. His hope withered into nothingness, and in its wake, a sorrowful emptiness was created. There were no more sweet dreams, all replaced by bone chilling nightmares. The nightmares got so intense to the point where he succumbed to not sleeping at all, explaining the blue bags beneath his glassy skyblue eyes.

_You're name is Jack Frost. Who was Jack Frost anyway? No one, that's who._

Jack thought to himself, desperately trying to wipe the frozen tearstains away without much success.

_Who is Jack Frost? Some sniveling, hopeless, useless freak who's only good at freezing people to death._

Jack pulled his knees up and burrowed into them.

_Who is Jack Frost? It doesn't even matter. He's a waste of space… but who he is, I don't know…it can't be me, that's for sure._

_But who am I? MiM said I'm…Jack Frost… _

Jack sobbed.

* * *

_Author's Note: And with that, the feels take over. D: Yup. Depression sucks._

_REVIEW PRETTY PLZ_

_969~696_


	10. Jack's Tree, Pt 2

_Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait (and the semi-short chapter), but for someone with no life, I'm uber busy. But here's Jack's Tree Pt. 2. There will be a third part… If you guys review :D_

_Rated T for Blood, violence, possible character death, the works : )_

* * *

~Bunnymund, Jack Frost, and Pitch~ Jack's Tree, Pt.2

"All you have to do is join me." Pitch said softly, easing into the crescendo of his offer as he leisurely strolled around Jack's tree. And after catching a glimpse of the expression on the boy's face, the Nightmare King knew that he was taking every word to heart; Jack always was an open book.

Yes, this was moving along nicely.

"Just imagine it, Jack! No more of this confusion, no more of this uncertainty! No more wanting to disappear. No more _emptiness,_" At these words, Jack tore his gaze from the knife in his hand to the spirit beside him.

"Jack…" Pitch spoke just under a whisper. "I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you for that… but I'm not asking your trust only to break it again," Jack's eyes were glued to Pitch's slightly watering ones, the bright blue hue sparkling with a newfound sense of hope.

If Pitch wasn't trying to win the kid over, he would've laughed out loud. How easily a few words and a sad face could get the spirit's attention. It was quite amusing, how desperate he was for someone to trust.

"I'm asking your trust solely because I wish to help you…"

Jack thought hard about this as he examined Pitch, who bore upon his face a look of dampened, honest-to-god sincerity. It was a mix of understanding and pleading, with the slightest twinge of expectancy barely overshadowed by sadness. He looked… well, like he meant these words.

But looks were deceiving.

All but Jack's of course, whose angry scowl projected the answer before they even escaped his lips. He always was an open book.

"No." Jack said through clenched teeth, dropping his knife and hopping off of his branch to better face the spirit whose offer was rebuffed for the second time. He grabbed the staff propped up against his tree and gestured towards Pitch with it.

"I'm not stupid, Pitch. I know what's going on here. You're taking me for a fool when I'm at my weakest, taking advantage of me because you think that I'll just give in." Jack's voice was unwavering and bold, determined to prove Pitch wrong. "You could care less if I'm confused, or _empty,_ and you don't want to help me at all, so long as I'm on your side. Well, let me clear that up for you real fast," Jack clenched his free fist as tight as he possibly could, a failing attempt to channel his frustration with the dark spirit. "There are no sides. I'm not with _them, _and I'm most certainly not gonna be with you!"

Pitch kept his relaxed composure despite the surprise that shot through him like a bullet. He was taken aback. He never really thought that Jack would figure it out. Pitch didn't allow the disappointment to spread to his face as the boy glowered at him. The words Jack said had startled him because, quite frankly, they were true. He sighed, a little disheartened at the fact that he would have to move on to Plan B.

"I thought this might happen…" Pitch shook his head nonchalantly, fiddling with his nightmare sand as it whirled around his fingers. His eyes darted over to the woods beside him. The rabbit was nearer approaching.

It would have to be done quickly.

What happened next took place too fast for Jack to comprehend. Pitch caught him off guard, blowing the nightmare sand into his face with a gust of wind so powerful it knocked him back into one of the trees surrounding his own. His staff was forcefully ripped from his hands, and by the time Jack managed to rub away the sand from his eyes, Pitch was before him. Everything moved too fast to know exactly what happened; one minute, he was staring up at a very angry looking Nightmare King, his icy blue eyes wide with fear. The next, a wave of pain splashed over his lower body, and his eyes clenched shut as the sensation swept over him. And he was… stuck to the tree, if that made any sense. Every move brought on another wave of indescribable pain and shock. When Jack opened his eyes a few seconds later, he managed to (or tried to, at least) piece together what happened.

Pitch had stabbed him through the middle with an ornately designed black dagger. It's owner was nowhere in sight, probably fleeing because Bunny could be seen not too far in the distance. The dagger went straight through him and into the tree behind him, pinning him in place. And he was unbearably hot, the temperature felt to have risen at least thirty degrees, temperatures that a winter spirit really wasn't supposed to endure. There was a blinding bright light in front of him, and when he could finally make out what it was, his heart stopped.

His tree, the one with too many tallies to count, the one that he'd spent almost all of his spare time with throughout his immortal life, the one that was not more than three feet in front of him, was up in flames.

* * *

Bunny smelled blood.

He didn't need a legitimate reason to panic. All of his thoughts abruptly stopped and shifted to Jack, and that in and of istelf was more than enough to frighten the Pooka. The scent of Jack's fresh blood did him in. And the smell of smoke shortly after only heightened his worry.

"Jack!?" He shouted, hoping to get a response. Only the cackling sound of wood burning met his sensitive ears. Bunnymund followed the sound, sprinting as fast as his legs would go towards the dark smoke slowly rising from something deep inside the woods. "Jack!"

After what seemed like forever, which was really only a few seconds, Bunny finally made it to the origin of the smoke.

There was a large burning tree smack dab in the center of the clearing. And across from said tree, standing still as stone, was a paralyzed pale Jack, staring at the tree with a mortified expression but with empty eyes.

"Jack!" he hollered, pouncing in front of him worriedly in a desperate effort to get his attention. "Frostbite, wha' happened? Why are ya this close at the fire!? You're a winter spirit, ya gumby! 'S not good for ya!"

Bunny looked at Jack, awaiting a response and blissfully unaware of the sprite's fatal injury. Jack tore his gaze from the tree to Bunny, wide with fear and surprise, something that didn't suit him at all. His lips quivered and his voice was weak and shaky.

"…Bu…Bunny, m… my…" Jack looked down. Bunny followed suit, only to have his breath catch in his throat.

He wished that he was still back at the Pole having a nightmare. Seeing this in reality just about killed him. Bunny's mind reeled. His heart went numb. His mouth went dry. But he wasted no time. He had to keep control of himself, no matter how horrifying this was.

"Jack, this is gonna hurt jus' a pinch," Bunny spoke unsteadily.

Before Jack could protest, Bunnymund swiftly grabbed the handle of the weapon and yanked it out nimbly. A sharp, wretched cry of pain tore free from the winter spirit's throat and Jack weakly slid down against the tree, crumpling into himself in an effort to ease the pain, but only making it worse.

"It's alright, Jackie, ya gonna be okay," Bunny hushed calmly, despite the sick feeling in his stomach and the shakiness of his paws as he slid up Jack's bloodstained hoodie. He inspected the bleeding wound for a moment or two. The knife was carelessly thrown aside, its existence long forgotten. Bunny's ears twitched at the sound of the winter sprite's feeble sobbing and forced his tears back as he looked down at him. Jack's eyes were clenched shut and hot tears rolled down the sides of his face, merging with the sweat that rolled down his temple. The pooka felt the surging heat of the fire and deemed it best to move to a cooler location. He took the crying boy in his arms and stood up, tapping a rhythmic beat upon the bloodied earth below him and falling through into his Warren. He landed softly on the grass floor and shooed the unpainted eggs away, hurriedly making his way to the shady spot beneath one of the trees.

"Alrigh' Jackie, ya gonna be fine, but ya hafta stay strong, okay?" Bunny gently set Jack down on the ground. The rabbit took his paw and firmly pressed it against the open knife wound. Jack cried out at the dreadful throbbing as it returned tenfold, and gripped Bunny's wrist in an effort to pry it off. It didn't budge. "That _hurts, _Bunny!" he replied with a sob, clutching the wrist in his grasp even tighter.

Bunny's heart broke at the sight. "Ah know, ah know, but it'll be over soon, alrigh'? you're gonna be fine!"

Jack could only reply with a whimper.

The egglings surrounded the scene curiously while still giving their leader manageable room, for which Bunny was thankful. This wouldn't have been the first time his googies helped him out in an emergency. True, they didn't have arms, and they were always "under boot" as North would've called it, but they followed directions.

"Oi! You lot!" he motioned to the group of googies to his right, and they all lined up ready for orders. "Go get some bandages from North's place, and tell him-" He then remembered that, as helpful as they were, his egglings couldn't talk. He hissed. "Agh, damn it all! Jus' bring him too, ya hear?" he said loudly over Jack's sobbing.

One of the eggs nodded vigorously and tapped his foot, and the area of googies disappeared into the ground. He turned his attention to the eggs on his left. "An' you! Go get the supplies!" the egglings took off in different directions, all aiming for different items and tools throughout the warren. A small group of eggs stayed on-hand, should their leader need anything else.

With that out of the way, Bunny finally turned his attention to Jack, who had begun coughing due to the incessant crying. His face was contorted with agony and tears rapidly trailed down his cheeks, refusing to freeze until his body was the regular temperature again. "Hey, Jackie, lookame." Bunny coaxed for Jack to open his eyes. They were red and glassy and a bewildering bright blue. "I know it hurts, an' I hate ta break it to ya, but it's gonna get worse, and ya gotta stay awake, alright? No matter how bad it gets, cuz if ya drift off on me… there's a good chance I won't be able to get ya to come back around again. Alrigh?" He wished he could've informed the boy earlier, just so he'd have known the risks and the steps that had to be taken. When spirits were wounded by another spirit and fell asleep before it could be healed or taken care of properly, the body will return to that of a mortals instead of regenerating. After that, not only would Jack die, but so would his spirit; it would disappear.

"Bunny!" A loud, familiar voice boomed as it fell to the ground beside him. North got up and brushed the grass off of his pants. "Bunny! What is meaning of sending your eggs-?" He caught sight of Jack and went quiet "… Lord have mercy…"

"Get summa the bandages and the kit ova here!" Bunny repeated to a batch of egglings urgently.

North knelt down beside him. "Should we bring Jack to Pole?"

"He's been movin around to much already, mate! An' it's cooler down here than it is in your workshop!"

"Then what shall we do? I have never-"

"North, just trust me and do as I say!"

* * *

That was what Jack really didn't want to hear at the moment_. "Ya gotta stay awake, alright? No matter how bad it gets, cuz if ya drift off on me… there's a good chance I won't be able to get ya to come back around again. Alrigh?" _No. Not alright. Because at that moment, all he wanted to do was drift off and forget this ever happened. He wanted to wake up with Bunny in the room they fell asleep in and then force the yetis to make him breakfast. Maybe some eggs over easy with some jelly toast and a glass of milk. That sounded really good to him right now. Of course, anything sounded better than getting stabbed through the stomach with a knife.

Another wave of pain washed over him as Bunny's paw shifted slightly, and he let out another sob. He was going to make himself sick if he kept on crying like this, but at that point, he didn't really care. Maybe if he threw up on Bunny he would let go and let him sleep. Seemed legit.

Jack could no longer hear what Bunny was talking about, or who he was talking to. All he could hear was this distorted ringing sound, like a warning going off in the back of his head that told him "You could die tonight." His vision blurred, and everything was obscure and hazy. He didn't realize that he'd stopped crying, and he didn't realize that he was falling asleep until he heard a loud voice and felt something shaking him vigorously. "Jack! Come on, mate! Stay awake!"

While Jack usually would've been ticked off that someone was keeping him from his sleep, he suddenly remembered Bunny's words. _There's a good chance I won't be able to get ya to come back around again. _Jack blinked his eyes open and felt his consciousness slowly return to him, along with a cruel throbbing that refused to let up, and only got worse.

"Jack? Can ya hear me? What day is it, Jack?"

Jack let out a sardonic chuckle. "…How in the… hell should I know…?" The faces began to blur again.

"Alrigh, who's ya first believa? C'mon, you know that one, don't you?"

Jack had no idea what was going on, no idea what they were doing to him. But it was strange and painful, like a sudden stinging and then a tugging from under his skin. Jack was too scared to look and find out himself. "That's…Jamie Bennett, Cottontail."

"There we go," he went on to ask another question, but Jack no longer wanted to play this question game. His thoughts wavered and he felt another wave of tears coming on as he thought about the tree, which was probably long gone by now. Bunny said something to him about finally being finished, but it went unheard.

"My tree, Bunny…" he cried. "My tree's gone…"

Bunny's nose comfortingly nuzzled Jack's temple. "'S alright, Jackie." Bunny purred. "It's okay…"

Jack heard him say something else, but his voice faded away before he could finish, and the golden dreamsand lulled him to sleep. And he was in the air with the dolphins once again.

* * *

_Author's Note: Yay blood : )_

_Haven't edited yet. Am in rush here, so PM me mistakes and I'll get on it. I called them egglings because it sounds bloody adorable in my mind. But that's just me. Speaking of adorable, that one car crash Jamie thingy is gonna be up on It Snows When It's Dark Out Too M Version soon, jus' so ya know. I still have to type it up from my notebook :) Enjoy it. Because it's very sad. (Most everyone: Oh _hell no _I ain't reading that! What kinda sick person would- *Goes off to read it*)_

_OH AND UM REVIEW PLEASE_

_969~696_


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